Frozen Butterfly Arc 2 & 3
by skywiseskychan
Summary: Having been caught again Kari never expected to have a second chance, or is that third? But once given it she's deturmined not to live anything less than a full life. If she can get free of genom's clutches and stay that way.
1. Chapter 1

Frozen Butterfly Arc 2 a story of Bubblegum Crisis

Chapter 1.2 – Chrysalis

I woke up surprised.

Vision a blur and eyes crusty with sleep I took that first moment to revel in the simple process of thinking once more. Painfully blinking my vision remained a mess and I could feel the crusty build up on my lashes shift uncomfortably with each movement. Trying to lift a hand to wipe them revealed to my lack of surprise that I was once again restrained, the normal state of affairs for waking up it seemed.

Swallowing against a dry throat and parched lips I became aware for the first time of just how cold I was. Cold enough I had ceased to shiver. I could make out the sounds of vague movement around me, slowly recognizing my position. Hands bound behind and beneath me, metal cuffs cutting into my wrists and back as my weight pressed down against them.

Blinking again more furiously things started to come into some kind of focus. I was laying naked, tucked into a large Jacuzzi identifiable by the hazy view of water jet's in the sides. My skin what I could make out an unhealthy pale blue shade, _coloration due to hibernation process and lack of centralized respiration during improper storage._

With that disturbing insight I took my first breath, body aching suddenly as I could feel my heart straining to pump, insufficient fluid in my 'veins' to provide function. Dragging the air into my lungs anyway I managed a soft cry for help; voice a barely audible rasp through what felt like cotton stuffed ears.

I felt worse than when I had been hit by the shock baton. That pain had been immediate, overarching and bypassed whatever system let me accept pain without becoming inhibited by it. This pain was set deep, an unending constant ache from my entire body, so strong I couldn't avoid it, couldn't escape it, and try as I might couldn't take that half step back from the sensations to function despite its presence.

A shadow, blurry and indistinct, moving too fast for me to focus on loomed over the edge of the tub. While I was still trying to focus it leaned over and rolled me onto my side. A dizzying move that made me feel like throwing up, if there had been anything in my stomach to expel I don't doubt I would have. The hands running over my skin were hot, almost painfully so. Ten fingers feeling as though they would brand my porcelain fine skin with their grasp.

My flesh actually crackled as my wrist was manipulated and a service port exposed. Then warmth. Life, light, love, longing, a yearning need, nothing can describe the sensation that began to flow through my veins. The blissful feeling brought with it further awareness and _warning, organic contamination of fluidics supply, warning improper restart procedure, warning fluidic temperature in excess of seven degrees. _

I didn't care, pushing the warnings of my housekeeping system aside, I didn't care that this new warmth might cause harm all I cared about was that I could trace its progress by the warmth in my limbs. How it crawled up my arm and deep into my chest bringing life along with it. Then with a shuddering pulse it reached my heart and began to disperse, spreading slowly at first but faster with each beat of my restarted heart. The rush of blood and warmth in my ears was joined moments later by the sound of water pouring into the bath. It too was almost painfully hot triggering further buzzing warnings of improper recovery procedures in the back of my mind.

I still didn't care. Intentionally closing my thoughts to the warnings and my eyes to the blurry world I basked in the heat slowly filling the bath. I felt the water cradle my body in its embrace, calming the violent shakes and shivers that came with my revival after long moments.

Despite the pain in my fingers, toes, ears, in every extremity I had as I was warmed all at once not enough to want it to stop. That wish came with the return of two boiling hot hands _37.2 _degrees as they reached in and pulled me up, probably to keep me from drowning but earning only a voiceless scream of pain from me for their effort.

Unable to suppress my own subconscious any longer the next agonizing moments passed in a blaze of pain and internal warning messages. _System clock normalized, functions at 50.5% efficiency, internal reserves empty, integrated memory active, physical output jack nonfunctional_. I managed to shunt the remaining long list of errors and injuries to my housekeeping programs blinking my eyes clear until in a foggy out of focus way I finally got a good look at my reviver.

He was a fit man, probably in late middle age, somewhere between forty and fifty with a short mass of greying hair. "Shhh, shhh, quiet now little doll, you will just have to endure, I don't have any fancy resuscitation chamber for you." One hand wiped my face with a washcloth before moving down over my body in a disturbingly intimate fashion.

As the shaking and pain began to subside the blue tinge fading from my skin the man spoke. "I'm Flint, your new master, do you understand?" His tone was full of condescension as though speaking to a five year old. Still I nodded carefully; breathing through my nose afraid I might let out another scream if I opened my mouth. _Master_ was going too fast, heating me back up too quickly and only doing more harm than good with his obviously makeshift revival process. The heat that had first brought bliss now bringing pain as my body was forced to adapt too quickly to the shifting temperature.

"Good. You're a lucky little girl, without me you would have been destroyed, but your mine now." He said stroking my damp hair almost affectionately. I'm not sure what my face betrayed at that moment, looking up at the fuzzy image of my _master _as I tried to puzzle out his meaning.

Something of my confusion must have shown on my face. "I own you now, that's right, you're mine." He repeated himself as if his words would make more sense the second time. "Now, how long until you're functioning properly again and … cleaned up from all the hibernation damage?" His hands sliding inquisitively over my skin making it crawl. That's when I realized, he doesn't know. He thinks I'm an ordinary boomer, that I have some hardwired reaction toward my owner.

Now wasn't the time to correct his misunderstanding. Consulting the still growing list of damage and warnings, I opened my mouth trying to answer but nothing came out, I was too hoarse from my time as a popsicle. Quickly recognizing the problem he sat back with an annoyed sound. "Is it days, weeks? Good…good enough." His tone gave lie to just how good he really thought it was but even if he didn't have a clue about care and maintenance at least he understood a simple nod.

After getting me a glass of cool water and helping me drink he began a most curious interview. He began to read questions off a piece of paper. It was some kind of physiological exam, similar to what Dr. Sutekina had given to make sure I was stable. But this one was quite clearly the 'light' version. Really, who asks "Were you shut down because you went rogue?" expecting to ever hear "yes." Whoever wrote it clearly hadn't made any allowances for the subject simply lying.

Playing my part, I tried my very best to pretend I didn't mind sitting, handcuffed naked in a bathtub answering questions for my new _master_. It really didn't help that that's what he expected to be called, not by name, mister, or sir, but 'master'.

I think that the only saving grace for the situation is that the effects of hibernation were hard enough on me that I wasn't attractive enough to deserve a more comprehensive exam and I hadn't felt a single undesired urge to seduce him. Looking down at myself, it was like I was recovering from a case of incredibly bad sunburn combined with a rough trip down the slope of the Himalaya's bouncing all the way. A layer of white skin flaking off bit by bit above deep purple and blue bruising was more than enough to keep him from wanting to enjoy his new acquisition right away.

An hour later after recovering my voice he finished the interview and persuaded that I wasn't going to go rogue, removed the cuffs. "You may go anywhere within my suite of rooms but are not to leave for any reason. Now clean yourself up and make a list of anything you need to get into shape to perform all your duties." Of course he couldn't be bothered to tell me what they were just then, not that I asked.

Doing my best to suppress the urge to rub my wrists or shoot him a withering glare, I just nodded adding a simple, "Yes Master." and watched him slip away. Both of us were grateful for the respite I think.

On my part because coming back to life really isn't the most comfortable thing in the world especially naked, in pain, and under the judgmental gaze of your new lord and master. Add in the lingering damage from improper storage and a faulty resuscitation just makes those feelings worse.

His relief I think came because manual labor was beneath him. His prize looking more like a dried raisin than a peach and he must have been having second thoughts about whatever risks he ran to own me – I'm not a genius but even a Neanderthal would have realized, from all the shortcuts and jerry-rigged revival process, that his ownership of me had to be shady at best, and likely highly illegal.

Still I was finally warm, my body now in organics-sustaining temperatures and granted privacy I turned on the bubbles before finishing the process of cleaning myself up. It felt nice to lose that top layer of dead, broken epidermis wiping myself gently clean with the discarded washcloth. Everything still ached terribly but it had finally fallen to that odd level of awareness without impairment I've encountered before.

It was still discomforting not to really know my own body and be there naked in it. I spent a few minutes of the soak to correct that staunchly as I scoured myself clean. My vision was still foggy and imprecise, something my housekeeping systems informed me was due to hibernation damage and improper warming procedures. It might get better _probability 42%_ or I might need glasses.

Who ever heard of a robot needing glasses?

Finally finished and rinsing off quickly I stepped from the extravagant bath and finding nothing else to wear wrapped a towel around my body in lieu of real clothing. Cautiously exploring _master's_ bedroom it didn't take too long to see the walls of my gilded cage. As best I could tell his rooms were near the apex of a small corporate mountain built to reflect Genom tower and the pyramids before it. I had a very nice view out two windows that stretched all along the walls of his suite, late afternoon sun shining in to illuminate the room brightly. Squinting I could just make out Fuji-san and the Genom tower or at least fuzzy approximations thereof in the distance.

With a bit more searching and squinting I managed to find a short robe that would fit at the end of his bed as well as the tragically shredded remains of my last outfit in the trash. It looked like _master_ had cut them off with a dull scissors. On the up side I found the lingerie Dr. Sutekina had purchased me still in the pockets. While lacy and generally impractical I felt much better prepared to face the rest of the apartment with that second layer of protection no matter how slight.

Thus fortified and looking distressingly appropriate to my new role of house toy I found his study just off the main hall. Inside I found his computer was password protected as a matter of course, and while my hardline output was fried my wireless was working just fine. Unfortunately this connection was encoded or something, and no matter how I tried it obstinately refused me any access.

I sat down in his large comfortable chair with a frown and looked for a pen and paper. At least I could pretend to be a good little boomer and do as he had asked. Spotting a calendar on his desk I noticed the date. It was now 2032, almost six months since the last time I breathed fresh air, an estimate that seemed in tune with the way degradation of my organs matched up with internal estimates.

Calling up a list of issues I was quickly overwhelmed with the current problems facing my body. _Fluid systems at 72%, epidermal layer 83%, internal organic systems 81%, ocular systems 78%, energy reserves 1%, _at which point exhaustion overtook me_ energy reserves and production at insufficient levels to maintain current operational pace_. Eyes drifting shut, I fell into a deep regenerative sleep.

I woke to the muted sounds footsteps moving through the apartment suite. Ravenously hungry and thirstier than I could ever recall being, I looked up to see Flint pulling off a dark suit coat as he stepped into his office from wherever his business had taken him while I slept. Swallowing against my dry throat I spoke up, "Master," something in his posture warning me an explanation for sleeping on the job better come before any requests. "Please forgive me but recovery has exhausted my internal stores." Though blurred I could see him relax slightly and nod.

Standing with unaccustomed effort I went on "Please, could I have something to eat, so that I might continue repairs?" My stomach was doing gymnastics at this point both from wanting to cannibalize itself for my survival and at the servile tone I had unintentionally adopted towards him. Pathetic or not my obsequiousness seemed to work. _Subject mood shifting, exhibiting protective body language, high probability of positive response to request_. Moments later and helped me down the hall to a dining room chair and poured me a glass of juice.

"Of course in the future preparing dinner will be one of your duties," he chuckled a little as he put some miso soup into the microwave, "along with taking care of my needs rather than depending on me to take care of yours." His voice strangely tender as he set the table. Sitting heavily in the chair beside him, _emergency reserves at 4%, _I cursed my worthless vision. I couldn't see clearly enough to judge his intentions.

"Now that you are up and feeling better, what will you need for a full recovery Amber?" Flint asked, some of his grandfatherly charm slipping beneath the eagerness in his tone. My first question won over playing good little robot though as I asked, "Amber?" my confusion clearly obvious.

"Yes, I chose it based on your serial number, 4m83r, I thought it rather clever myself." He looked far too smug for someone ripping off Sequential Art, an old if entertaining web-comic. Still if it would make him happy who was I to argue? "Yes Sir, Master," I added remembering to be properly servile as my body rejoiced in the feel of starting to digest that first glass of grape juice. The liquid hardly in my mouth long enough to taste the complex tangy sourness that reminded me of limes.

My attention no longer occupied by the feel of my stomach trying to eat my spine I called up my internal error log. The list was long and depressing, but the priority items were easy enough to find. "The most important component for recovery is a fresh supply of synthetic blood, type 8100 D, though any 8100 series would be compatible. With that and proper nutrition I should be able to complete self-repairs and recovery in four days."

Though blurry I could see his expression change along with his entire posture. The kindness vanished into the corporate shark of his true self, voice laced with irritation and anger as he replied, "I am your Master, and you will do without any fancy synthetic blood and get by with ordinary plasma like the rest of us." _84% probable Master using anger to mask uncertainty and shame due to inability to procure 8100 D series,_ the cause of his anger coming to me after a moment's panic at his tone.

Knowing the reason however didn't relax me any as I went on, hesitant in case I stumbled across another unknown sore point. "Then it will take longer Master. Human blood is an inferior medium for operational considerations." I responded, taking refuge in technical seeming speech without letting the disappointment I felt into my tone. "Further due to organic contaminants and breakdown of blood vessels I will require regular transfusions to remain operational." This consideration became a major concern as I realized the limitation while informing him of it.

"Good, good. That won't be a problem then. I can have a steady supply available; just make sure to get well quickly. I worked hard to find you and I'm not going to let anything get in the way of enjoying my prize." he grinned in satisfaction and slowly got up from the table. His attention no longer really focused on me as he began to monologue.

"Impossible to get on earth huh, banned, and out of reach? This will show those self-satisfied pricks up on Genaros. Think they're better just because they have a harem? Their boomers are just common laborers, grease monkeys and dust bunnies at best." He paused on his stalk around the table fingers trailing through my hair. "With you I have the real deal, my own little French Maid… and we'll see if I share when they come down to visit ME." I began to rise, instincts telling me it was a bad idea to sit if _master_ was standing and wanting any excuse to slip out from beneath his touch.

"Eat, and get strong my little Amber, I'll have more than enough use for you soon enough." His large hands pressing me back into my seat and resting on my shoulders. It took a feat of will not to turn my head or squirm, feeling him standing there, looming over me. I almost dropped the glass of juice in hand as his fingers brushed lightly through the hair at the nape of my neck. "You'll need to grow this out."

"I prefer long hair."

"Of course…" I murmured as his fingers brushed along the collar of my robe gently stroking my flesh before he turned heading down the hall, leaving me to my own devices and to finish the meal alone. I could hear him in the study sitting down at computer and delving into whatever it is disturbing executives do at night.

At the not so subtle urgings of my stomach I swiftly finished the glass of juice and soup. Finding both glass and bowl bare then – quietly, unobtrusively – I went to the kitchen in search of more. My steps still lethargic and my throat already growing parched – I could almost feel my body working desperately to break down the nutrients and speed recovery.

Filling my glass full of water to sip I went through my _master's_ refrigerator and found a small supply of premade dinners that only needed to be taken out and warmed up to be ready to eat. Paying more attention to the quality of ingredients than trying to guess at taste I picked some kind of whitefish and salad. I finished a second full dinner. The fish was curiously enjoyable, almost with the taste of deep frying to my tongue despite the utter lack of batter though the salad was, if anything a bit bland.

Once finished I was careful to clean up the mess and dishes meticulously. I didn't just think Flint was the kind of man to be upset over clutter; from how meticulously everything in his apartment was kept I knew he was. And when you added that to his short burst of temper earlier I knew I didn't want to give him any reason to be upset with me.

As the sky went from blue to black, stars washed out by the city glow, or just my bad vision, he shut down his computer and came to find me. Without a word he led me into the bathroom and turned on all the lights to examine me more closely. Heart racing as he untied my robe I considered my options.

I could fight, but my body still ached, and I was exhausted. Almost all my energy was going into self-repairs and I hadn't had a chance to build back up any real reserve. _Probability of failure high. _Seduce him. While I was strangely comfortable with the general concept, my skin still wanted to crawl at the touch of his hand on my arm and not giving into the urge to fight was taking all my willpower. Besides _master's pulse remaining even, pupil reaction normal, indication interest remains clinical 81%._

He rubbed his fingers against my skin, the top layer dry, coarse and flacking beneath a nail. Slipping the robe off my shoulders to consider the whole he paused before pulling his hand back. "Not tonight," he thought out loud. "You'll sleep on the sofa until I decide that you've recovered adequately to join my bed. I want breakfast ready at six thirty."

That said he hustled me out of the room and shut the door in my face. To tell the truth, all I felt was relief so strong I nearly stumbled on my way to the sofa. Lying down, I pulled the robe tight once more and let my eyes shut, locking away the blurry outside world in favor of my imagination.

In the morning I woke to the sounds of the door opening. It was _6:00:05_ as I blinked my eyes open and stumbled to my feet, squinting down the hallway to see the door to the master bedroom still shut. Turning my head I tracked the sound of steps coming from the front door of the suite toward the living room each one measured and as regular as a metronome. Smoothing out the robe I wore and giving up any hope of running I simply stood still and watched what might conceivably be the blurry figure of a very proper English butler step into the room.

"May I help you?" The universally polite way of asking, 'what the hell are you doing here?', blinking my eyes and squinting to get him in focus.

"Pardon me Ma'am, but Mr. Flint has left standing instructions that his breakfast is to be ready at 06:30. While I am certain that he is grateful for your, ahem, companionship last evening he will be quite cross should I fail in my duties."

That's when my conscious and subconscious came to a singular conclusion, _Boomer!_ It was obvious now as I considered it. The butler's step hadn't faltered as he entered the room, there was no nervous shifting, no incidental motion, no indication that he was suddenly in the presence of a near naked and attractive woman or, if my skin was still flacking off a dreadful one. Either way his complete lack of reaction had been confusing to my subconscious leaving it without anything to analyze.

"Of course, don't let me stop you. I'll just, sit quietly out of the way, here, if that's alright?" I asked while, watching the boomer warily, trying to understand just what it was my body wasn't telling me about it, but the butler simply clicked his heals lightly and offered a polite bow before moving swiftly on with the process of making a light Japanese breakfast. The motions were obviously practiced and precise, and he only hesitated once when fetching the table setting. I must not have put everything back just right.

It occurred to me that he didn't know what I was, probably why he was sent away last night so I was a secret, even to master's other boomer. I toyed with the idea of simply volunteering that information but in the end held my tongue, he wouldn't like it.

It was a great relief to have this other boomer here, not because it was doing 'my' job, but just because of how relaxing it was to be around. Sitting back down on the couch I let my concentration drift and made myself as inconspicuous as possible, enjoying the complete lack of physical imperatives being around my _master_ and the rest of humanity incurred. An angry shout from the bedroom interspersed with calm English accented Japanese drew me back to the here and now. Before I could start listening in the conversation had dropped below my ability to discriminate their voices, _25 dB given background interference,_ the door to the bedroom sliding shut. Five minutes later Mr. Flint, looking rather more composed than he had sounded stepped out into the main room.

"Jarvis, this is Amber. She will be joining my staff as a maid…" I thought he shot me a look but given his face was mostly a blur I couldn't decide for certain what it meant although I could feel his eyes crawling over my skin as he did so. "I want you to see to her outfitting and familiarization. She will is not to leave my quarters. If anything outside is required, you will see to its acquisition. She is to have access to the house accounts and will be taking over meal service and preparation. Due to… a disease she will require periodic blood transfusions, initially several in succession and then likely on a weekly or monthly basis."

The butler nodded once. "It shall be done," a very English pause and then "Your breakfast awaits sir."

After the quick meal _Master _Flint took me aside, my heart rate accelerating as he paused just inside his bedroom and closed the door. "You are not to reveal what you are for any reason. If asked you are simply my employee, and you are here because you want to be. Is that understood?"

I nodded, instincts driving me to add a servile bow before I had even made up my mind what to do. I spoke up softly words coming to my lips unbidden, "Yes Master, I understand" This close I could see his eyes as I looked up and knowing it wasn't enough added, "I won't let you down." Gripping my chin he lifted me back to my full 152cm and looked my face over closely, brushing aside a few flakes of dry skin revealing the healthy fresh pink layer beneath. "Good." his gaze lingering on my lips as I gave them a nervous lick, "Good, I will see you when I return."

As he swept out I felt my pulse begin to slow once more, now that his proximity was not so physically imposing. There had been something in his eye, an avaricious need I didn't trust. _Pulse, respiration and pupil dilation indicate sexual attraction. _The protection afforded by my long stasis was wearing away; I would have to be careful to maintain it as long as possible.

It didn't take long for Jarvis to finish cleaning up in the kitchen or the _master's _bedroom and it finished doing both before I finished breakfast. Soon enough it was back and facing me with its considering cold, almost human eyes and disdainful English look on its face. Strangely I didn't feel pressured or discomfited as it leveled a disapproving gaze upon me. "Very well madam, it appears you are to assist me in my duties. I do not have any need for assistance, but as the master has requested, I will allow you to take over the care and preparation of his meals." Gesturing imperiously he moved towards the kitchen. Tapping a panel aside revealed a computer built into the face of the refrigerator.

"This is the current inventory. You may set item stock levels and any deficiencies shall be remedied during the 14:00 delivery each day. The database automatically tracks quantity, and freshness. Complete meals may also be selected, either for delivery at a specific time, or for later preparation." It seemed to have one speed only, boring, and I spent the next three hours sitting, standing, leaning or laying across various parts of the kitchen listening to it go on and on, listing each and every item available to me.

It was actually kind of fun to see just how the uber rich lived, or at least those that cooked for them. I knew that the meals cooked to order would be my best friend in not making a fool of myself, my own repertoire rather limited. Still, despite the itch to start playing around right then, to see if I could still cook my favorite dishes I resisted, there was more to show me.

Thankfully the kitchen 'tour', in as much as a three hour briefing without pauses for breath or actually going anywhere can be considered one was the only room where I was replacing Jarvis in his duties. It crisply informed me "I will see to all of the Master and your other needs, there will be no cause for you to interfere or disrupt the household. Do you understand?"

After three hours together I couldn't really think of Jarvis as a He, it just didn't give off the right signals, nor even the right cues for a gay man I realized. Just why I would need that knowledge a curiosity until I realized how it might impact a sexaroid to made a mistake in that area. "Ah yes, I believe that I do Jarvis." I answered making my own tone formal by choice, and slightly mocking.

The most comforting thing about being around Jarvis was actually enjoying the freedom to just be myself, without the need to constantly react to his subliminal ques. It was almost enough to make me want to give him a hug. So when Jarvis told me that the female uniforms, plural I would point out, had already been selected and that I was to strip so that he could order the correct size for each I did so without a second thought. Stripping for Jarvis was as comfortable an idea as it was in the bathroom, being naked with him doing the measuring I was as comfortable as I would have been doing it alone, and far easier to get the task done.

My calm reserve lasted until 2:13:15 pm when I was to have my first transfusion and dialysis. To be honest I had been looking forward to it all day. Low priority warnings about my fluidics supply breaking down due to the strain of regenerating of my body's tissues had been growing more serious since noon. Add the considerable pleasure I recalled of the feeling of warmth pouring into my veins when I was revived and I was almost eager for the procedure.

The only real problem I had was… needles. Jarvis sat me down in the main room, pulling a small suitcase sized dialysis machine from the hall closet to my side before taking out two very large very long very pointy needles. Boomer or no, I almost jumped up and ran when it reached for me with them. Heightened senses, with the ability to mute pain or not are very unfriendly when combined with a phobia.

As the first needle pierced my arm, only Jarvis' iron grip kept me in the chair. I felt myself slipping trying desperately to get away, _warning combat mode unsustainable, insufficient energy reserves, blood supply unstable, reducing respiration, regulating pulse, _but my body was just unable. Finally after what seemed to be ages of dread, my eyes fixed on the needles and the feel of thin steel pressing into my veins autonomic sub routines from my housekeeping programs kicked in to protect my body from myself forcing an unreasonable unrelenting calm.

A soft hum kicked on and I could feel my blood begin to cycle. Unlike before the new blood didn't bring with it a bloom of warmth. It was chilly, a little shiver of cool working its way through my body with minty freshness. It might have been wonderful on a hot sunny day but inside it just gave the process a more surreal feel.

Keeping my eyes shut wasn't helping me cope so I opened them up to squint at my arms. When it came into focus the results were rather disturbing. Fresh and bright red blood, _medical grade whole blood, incidence of contaminants 3%, compatibility with system 92% estimated half life at current rate of use 20 hours,_ flowed in. What came out was, despite my recent hyperventilation a vague sickly brownish purple and I cut off the detailed analysis before I accidently made myself ill knowing exactly how much detritus from the recovery process was being flushed out with it.

Still it was invigorating. I could feel myself becoming more alert and responsive. A sluggishness I had not even noticed setting in washing away with the thicker disturbingly tar like sludge leaving my veins. Jarvis was thankfully silent throughout the process, changing out bag after bag and two filters for the machine before we were done.

Pulling the needles free made my stomach want to crawl up my throat and choke the butler but I managed to swallow back my psychosomatic gorge and offer a strained smile in place of intestinal homicide. As he cleaned up I left him for the bathroom the urge to scrub and clean outside as well as in hitting me.

I stripped out of the robe and lingerie before stepping into the western style shower. I could have used the more traditional furo/hot tub arrangement again but I wanted to feel water pounding between my shoulder blades and running across my skin.

What I hadn't really given much thought was that this was my first shower, not counting the rain. It was… different. My skin was recovering well and with it my sensitivity to touch. It wasn't two minutes before I had to bite my lip to stifle a soft moan of pleasure. In the end I gave Flint's water heater a good test, but half an hour of constant near steaming use the temperature never wavered so much as a degree. It took the same thing to snap me out of my languid indulgence that drew me into them. My body communicating its needs to my mind. _Alert, internal temperature and duration nearing danger point to organic components. _

Stepping clear a bit reluctantly I caught sight of myself in the foggy steamed up mirror. The combination of steam and fuzzy vision meant all I could see was a vague pink form. My entire body flushed from the scouring and… attention I had given myself with a loofa and the heat of the water. Stepping back I held my arms up close squinting and frowned as smooth unblemished, if frightfully red, skin came into focus.

I would need a plan. _Master_ was coming home tonight, and I no longer looked or felt like a leper. That made me ponder what he would want, and with my recent experience in the shower I no longer had any doubt how my body would react. The physical need that seemed to blossom with that thought automatic and disturbing enough that I forced all thoughts of the _master, _out of my mind and hurriedly toweled off.

I was about to call for Jarvis, my robe missing when I spotted a pile of black and white neatly stacked at the far end of the counter.

It was the first of my uniforms.

I don't know who sold this kind of thing but it certainly hadn't come from any hotel or uniform supply company I ever imagined. Maybe a costume shop, but even employees at a maid café wouldn't be caught in such a stereotypical and slinky French Maid outfit.

By the time I was done putting on and properly arranging the entire ensemble the mirror had cleared. Looking at my reflection, and the image I presented even with my poor vision I knew I would need a plan. Squinting to bring myself mostly into focus my determination to avoid his hungers just grew. My first thought was Tryptophan, but worried that might not be enough I quickly made my way to the refrigerator's automatic ordering system and worked my way through finding and ordering the most potent sleeping aid I could find.

I decided a dinner heavy on pasta with some red wine would give me the best chance to conceal the drug's flavor in some part of the meal; both sauce and wine hopefully options for a transmission vector. I did not plan to share _my masters_ bed tonight no matter my recalcitrant bodies response to the concept. I would do whatever necessary to keep him from having the chance to ask or act.

He got home about six _5:57:46_, or possibly it would be more accurate to say he moved from the business offices to his living quarters at that time. If I didn't have the example of Genom tower in the distance I would have thought this building a fine example of an arcology. Of course Jarvis was waiting for him at the door to take his coat, and I, like a good, obedient little servant was ready to drop the pasta just as he arrived.

Joining the welcome home ritual with a cheerful if false voice I stayed behind the kitchen island, hoping its bulk would provide some protection. "Welcome home Master, dinner will be ready in ten minutes."

Glancing over at me the older man cocked his head to one side, _subject interest captured, _I thought, part of me assessing the many way's I could with just a slight shift of weight or expression work to use that interest against him. But all of those behaviors my subconscious wanted to employ would only increase his focus on me and that was the last thing I wanted, no matter how nicely my body was reacting to his return. "Ah Amber, now that is far more flattering. I hope you're recovering well…" He reached out to run his fingers across the top my apron, fingers tracing the stark white on black of the silken fabric over my stomach before sliding them upward.

Flinching at the touch breath hitching I spoke up quickly slipping out of reach as I distracted him with my answer. "Unfortunately my body has not fully recovered from my time in," choking off the rest of the sentence, only just managing not to say too much in front of Jarvis. I worked my mouth several times, mind awhirl before just deciding it wasn't programing just common sense that lead me to stop and remained speechless faking a bit of confusion and turning to just stare at Jarvis.

My heart was pounding, and I could feel the lingering heat of his touch, my own hand rising up to brush at the silk to remove the phantom trace of his fingers.

I'm either a bad actor, too accomplished. Then again possibly _Master_ is just slow, but he did seem to catch on after an eternity _32.3 seconds_ of frowning at me and my behavior. "Of course your illness. Are there any other complications that you haven't managed to overcome yet due to your treatment?"

How could he be so daft? I felt like stomping a foot. In one breath he's willing to believe I'm so dense as to be unable to even speak, much less cover for a near slip while in the very next he's presuming I would make the connection between a mythical illness and lingering damage from my hibernation. Couldn't he make up his mind on if I was Lassie or GIR? Well at least it should be easier to trick him this way and I wouldn't even have to lie, something that eased my conscience greatly.

"Yes sir, unfortunately while my skin has recovered nicely," no longer the cherry red straight from the shower but a distressingly attractive natural peach. Putting just the right note of dismay into my tone I went on. "I am afraid that I still have significant internal bruising and other injuries. I will be unable to partake of any stressful physical activities for a little while longer." I knew I had him when his face fell slightly. I guess I was a good actress and as I reassured myself again, it wasn't a lie. My own processors had prevented me from shifting to combat perception earlier after all.

"Well, damn… I do hope you're sufficiently recovered soon, I'm looking forward to breaking you in properly." Stepping close he considered me a moment more. "I do like your hair" Reaching up he brushed a thumb over my cheek. "And skin soft as a baby's bottom, I'm looking forward to seeing the rest." His voice grew hard then his final words undoubtedly an order "Hurry up and recover." Turning away he shuffled to the table and threw himself down into the chair, the very picture of frustration.

His mood served to bring me down a little as well. It was hard to hold onto the feeling of quiet satisfaction his easy acceptance of my ploy had given me. I realized with a slowly growing dismay that I, no my Body, hadn't wanted to succeed and I had to pay close attention throughout the meal to keep my subconscious behavior from undoing all my efforts.

He perked up a bit with the meal, thanks to the wonder of unlimited spending and a truly cosmopolitan shopping service I had managed to put together a rather family spaghetti sauce from scratch I recalled from my life before. To drug or not to drug, as the moment of decision came it was the nerve rattling arousal that kept me from holding back the sleeping medication. He wasn't likely to try anything now but I just needed the extra assurance it gave me.

Dismissing Jarvis from the apartment entirely for the meal he instructed me to join him. Making up another plate, a single forkful of noodles a spoonful of sauce, sliver of French bread and a large glass of water I sat down across from him. I had already almost filled up just tasting as I cooked and wasn't sure I could finish even the modest portion on my plate.

"I'm sorry I almost let my nature slip. I'm not used to the requirement to hide it." Hoping to guide the conversation somewhat I went on. "It isn't strictly legal for you to possess me here is it Master, I mean you won't get in trouble will you?" I felt compelled to add that little bit more, to hide the real reason I was asking, and it was just… right to do so.

Pausing in appreciation of the meal, but without offering a compliment he considered his answer a moment before starting to explain. "No, it is no longer permitted to own or operate a 33-S on earth, and getting an appropriate waiver is rather difficult. However that isn't something you need to concern yourself over. I've taken all the appropriate precautions when acquiring you. Genom records show you destroyed, and I made certain that none of the internal tracking systems were functional before you were … moved from storage here. There is nothing for anyone to discover, you're mine now."

Taking another few bites he reached out catching my hand, a churning confusion in my stomach keeping me from pulling back in time. Gently his fingers brushed across my skin. It felt nice, a languor spreading through me at his touch before my thoughts snapped back into focus with his words. "It's why you'll have to subsist without the appropriate artificial blood supply. It is no longer being produced on earth and making arrangements for it to be smuggled down from Genaros would draw too much attention. But don't worry; you can function perfectly well with regular transfusions."

Letting my hand go and returning to his meal Flint was content with his work around for me, As though he had been the one to design in the capability, and must have taken my silence for agreement. Really I was just trying to analyze why I felt the momentary pang of loss as _Master's _let go of me, focused on the lingering impression of his touch for the rest of the meal, answering him on autopilot, a fraction of my attention enough to engage him at a socially acceptable level showing interested in his day and approval of his opinions. The rest of my mind was caught in a spiral trying to figure out my odd reactions to him since I had woken up.

After the meal I spent a few minutes cleaning up while Flint logged on and did a little after dinner work. But this time I was ready. I monitored the connection as he logged in and linked his computer to the main database and caught his password as he typed. As I had guessed he used the same password for all his files. Now instead of just mild access to the internet I could investigate his secure system as well.

We both finished our tasks at around the same time. The dishes clean and drying in their designer rack and Flint satisfied that everything in his own personal satrap was running smoothly. Catching my arm in passing Flint drew me down to sit close beside him on the sofa flipping on a late night talk show. Its guests participating in bizarre challenges such as who could get through a whip cream castle in the least time without getting dirty and doing my best to laugh with him and keep his wandering fingers as far down my leg as possible.

Splitting my attention between a computer network and my body wasn't normally hard. But feeling him so close, his body heat warming my side was a trial in and of itself. I could tell that the drugs were working, just not fast enough. It had hardly taken more than a minute after sitting down for his fingers to make their way onto my thigh.

My mind recoiled at the touch, but forcing myself not to do anything drastic, my hands in tight little fists and buried in the cushions beside me I took every chance I could to edge away from him and keep his fingers slipping down rather than up my thigh.

The really concerning part is that I wasn't distressed by his touch just the implications. His fingers, slightly rough and warm, felt nice on my thigh and the limited attention I could spare to the real world was doing its best not to bolt in discomfort or give in to the urge to lean closer, instinct and intellect fighting fiercely.

The rest of my mind was busy with another battle on his private network. Trying to ferret out information on myself was easy, until I realized that everything I found was a lie. Amber did exist electronically at least, if not on paper. The identity he had acquired for me was comprehensive, and included a rather demeaning debt peonage agreement I couldn't imagine was legal to explain my presence. Little details left buried in his personal files, photo albums, and search histories also gave rather disturbing hints as to just where his mind was at when he had selected my uniform and it's variations.

I also found plenty of information on GPCC, the research arm of Genom. The building I was in was a mini-tower, focused on Genom's work as a subcontractor for the Japanese Defense forces. Once inside the computer was full of information on _Master's_ passcodes, overrides and the security procedures for the building. But dig as I could, no matter how many of his files I wandered through feeling the electronic version of blisters rising on my mind from looking through too many too fast nothing seemed to reference how he had acquired me in the first place. Until I accidently stepped off his system. But instead of plunging into the wide web found my footing steady on something that wasn't there.

It felt cold and slick, but while I couldn't see the path I could feel it, a ghost drive hidden from his own system but now that I had stumbled across it growing more and more obvious. I let out a surprised and slightly triumphant giggle at the discovery, or perhaps because _Master _had pulled me into his side, either way all of me knew that this was what I had been looking for.

Moments later I was shivering, his arm around my back curling in, fingers tracing the edge of my breast before I could squirm just enough to interpose my arm, buying myself a few more inches of safety. "Are you cold, here, come closer…" _Master_ invited, and I couldn't really object, my distress and shivers only growing as he pulled me tighter to his side. It was nerve wracking how clearly I could guess his intentions my only lingering hope the drugs I had given him.

Fingers mentally crossed I put more effort into searching his system, trying to focus as much of myself on something else as I could. It turned out Flint was not an honest man. I was far from his only foray into illegal operations. In fact it seemed he had his finger in any number of pies. Corrupt politicians and officials both listed on his payroll. Some owing him favors others being blackmailed for their support. It included a complicated flowchart indicating who held power and control over who else. Near the top of that chart was Brian Mason, my creator himself. Flint was on it too, and while powerful in his own right there were acknowledged links between him and several other top officials he was clearly trying to break.

Those files led to his plans to acquire power. He had an extensive dossier on orbital beam satellites including technical specifications and information about a new encryption system being developed for mobile networking with them.

I had known we were in the future, and lived my entire life aware that there were enough nuclear missiles to destroy the world, but familiarity breeds contempt and that threat had grown dim with time, these satellites could do the same job in minutes maybe seconds, and it looked like he was working with Mr. Mason to get his own hands on them.

Moving to the next file as _Master's _fingers stroked my arm just beneath the short poof of sleeve, Goosebumps rising at his touch; I came across another shocking revelation. He was making arrangements to sell a battlemover, a kind of manned mecha on the black market, complete with onboard deadman switch neutron bomb. Who on earth thought it would be a good idea to design a weapon that could, by accident or design wipe out the entire battlefield? Okay that's a stupid question humanity being what it is, but that doesn't mean that the idea was a good one either.

Then finally I found it, the official file on 27-33-S-4M83R. My entire file, which was conveniently incomplete but I doubted that my _master _realized that it left out a lot of details. Other than my construction date, details of storage until my original date of activation in 2032, and that I had become damaged when testing software updates it was almost barren aside from an equally honest record of my destruction. It was rather disappointing to realize that there were no answers here for me. That even the falsified records on me were based on falsified records. At least it proved I didn't owe these people any loyalty.

It a related file he listed details on the condition he found me in, how he had cautiously and carefully had me rerouted from one storage facility to the next always in the pursuit of moving forward with the process of decommissioning. He even had the electronic key used to make him my official _master._

As the show neared its end, and _Master _seemed to be paying more and more attention to me I very gently slipped out of his grasp and took a short discrete step back hiding it with a bow. "I'm sorry Master, but I must see to internal maintenance now if you wish me to reach an acceptable level of performance quickly." It was hard to say, hard to find the right words, to force them out before I turned and fled his presence for the safety and isolation of the bathroom.

Closing the door behind me I continued to shiver a little, not in disgust at his touch but because of the longing it evoked. Not for him, but to be part of society again, to have someone who cared? For a moment I actually considered the possibility of staying. _Master shows clear signs of desire, both physical and emotional needs evident by his behavior. No indications from images on his system of tendency to violence or abuse, anticipation of light physical and consistent social use. _No, No, NO! I was not going to stay and be his pampered little secret, _sex toy,_ even if it did hold a damming bit of appeal the price for social acceptance through him was too high to pay.

Diving back through my wireless connection into his ghost drive with fresh determination I looked for what I knew had to be there and found it. Bank accounts, numbered and anonymous, false identification and a lists of stocks and investments he hand squirreled away for a rainy day. Unfortunately he was too careful and despite having maintained detailed records there was only enough information there to inventory not access his secret finances. It took half an hour of careful inspection before I found something I could use, a list of emergency drop boxes, in rail and subway stations spread across the city.

With the exception of something a little more subtle to wear I had enough information to escape. The best part is that only _Master Flint _would ever know I was still alive. He could hardly complain to Genom security about me without revealing his own crimes, and while the identity he crafted for me might hold up to a cursory investigation I doubt he would risk the police looking too deeply in case they turned up the truth by accident.

All the automated ways of tracking me were already gone, Flint had seen to that. Mason thought I was dead, the police wouldn't know to look and _Master_ wouldn't be able to expend too much effort without giving away his own culpability… I just had to get outside the building. Free, the thought fluttered through my mind brining a wide smile to my face.

At least until I thought about the last time I felt that feeling lifting me up. It hadn't lasted long, I would have to do better this time, far better. I would need an identity the moment I stepped out the door, outside the controlled climate of the limited world of GPCC.

For that I would need help, and I only had one place, one person, I might ask for that. Then the door to the bathroom opened, and my euphoria died. I wasn't out of the building yet. I was here, with _master _and the bars of my cage came crashing home.

"Come to bed, it's time to get some rest." With those few words I felt myself beginning to panic, _master showing signs of impending collapse, pupil dilation, slurred speech, respiration indicate probability of successful congress 12%. Recommend stimulus or activity to energize subject._ I almost screamed. Only holding back as I realized that if I did it might help, him.

Instead I let him take my arm and guide me, his shuffling steps and drifting path helping bring my pulse under control, to his bed. Drawing back the covers I forced my hand not to shake as he climbed in. Apparently he had taken the time to change, wearing royal purple silk pajamas he actually appeared rather striking as incredulous as the thought might be, patting the spot beside him.

Unwilling to part with a shred of fabric that might slow his advances I only stepped out of the high arched heals that came with the uniform before sliding in next to him. Gritting my teeth tightly I lay, stiff as a corpse beside him the lights automatically dimming as he rolled closer draping an arm across me. Seeing it coming I too rolled onto my side, facing away so it only lay across my arm but that victory was short lived as he bodily pulled me closer until his chest pressed into my back.

I'm ashamed to admit I actually let out a sigh of contentment as he pulled me in. Feeling his large arm around me holding me close, safe and warm, helping fulfill a primary function; suppressing the growl I wanted to let loose at the realization I caught his hand in mine and held it close, but not too close, patting it gently. "Rest now Master, I'll still be here in the morning." But not much longer if I have anything to say about it. To my relief the combination of drugs and comfort overcame his desire and I felt him slip into true sleep.

For me however it wasn't so easy. I was caught up in the divergent sensations caused by _master's _embrace. I wanted nothing more than to scramble out of bed, take up the pole lamp at the end and beat him for daring to take such liberties. At the same time my body was shifting subtly against him to make his embrace more comfortable, to feel his aura of warmth and heat more firmly against my back. It was almost maddening how much I wanted to go, and to stay.

Eventually I settled on an appropriately dyslexic solution. For tonight I would enjoy the feeling of contentment being so close gave. He was unconscious, nothing would happen, I wouldn't countenance thinking along those lines, so all I had to worry about was making sure to be out of bed before dawn, and that my escape plans would be finalized before tomorrow evening.

Relaxing my senses, 'safe' in _master's_ arms, I let myself get caught up in the winds of data transfer, lost in the hurricane of information passing from his computer through the GPCC mainframe and out into the rest of the web, spun out and without a clear destination in mind drifting from one wispy data transfer to the next.

Finally I caught my bearings, a server number that was familiar, and like a shot my idle drifting with the ebb and flow of information ended. I had a place to go and no time to waste getting there. It had been months, but somehow finding traces of my earlier exploration; evidence that I had existed before was heartening.

There in the recesses of a civil service database where a peculiar meeting had occurred months earlier I found more proof of my existence. Messages had been left behind. They started out short a cheerful, "Congratulations on your escape." – Pinku Neko But quickly the tone grew concerned and ultimately pleading with me to answer them.

My hacker friend hadn't forgotten me. They realized something had gone wrong, and left a promise not to forget. Pinku Neko even said that they would keep looking for me amid vows of retribution if it were a joke. Reading them all, months' worth of messages filled with their feelings gave me a sensation of contentment even laying in _master's_ arms didn't match. I was wanted, and missed.

I moved on, pressing harder, racing packets of ping data through the servers until coming to rest in a small, unimportant transit node, part of a telecom routing grid and took the time to look around, just in case. I hadn't felt the sticky tacky sensations of the web café's surveillance and tracking programs but after a care search I did find a very minor gossamer thread touching my 'ankle' leading back along my path, a steady pulse letting the computer in Flint's office know to maintain the connection.

I considered that for a time. It wasn't a bug, it wasn't a trace, but if someone were determined enough they might find it, and me, but if I did something about it my path home could be lost and I didn't want to wonder what might happen if part of my consciousness was busy processing in a node outside my body when the connection dropped.

It was time for another message, and given where the path they accessed the internet was at least I knew they were somewhere in MegaTokyo. I considered leaving a flippant message, to conceal how bad things really had gone, something innocuous and light like "Hi, it's Galatea, sorry I've been out of touch, maybe we could share coffee?" But I couldn't do that. Whoever Pinku Neko was, they were worried about me. Worried FOR me, and I wasn't going to risk their friendship trying too hard to keep my past, what little there was a secret. I would just have to come up with a little white lie when it came up, something close enough to true it wouldn't feel like a betrayal without exposing my secrets.

The message I chose was short, but I hoped enough to keep this unexpected friend I hadn't known I had. "I'm sorry, I got caught. I didn't mean to worry you but couldn't reach the web till now. I'm going to try again, when you get this I hope I'm online but if not I'll be back soon. And, thank you for trying." – Galatea 3.0.

My message left I quickly retreated back to the office computer and it's ghost drive. I needed a new identity, but didn't have any way of creating one for myself or the time to hope Neko could help me either. While I didn't have the knowledge of how to do it, or even what would be needed I did have one option left; A blueprint in how to do so in the excellent example in the work that had been done to create Amber in the first place.

One thing about computers, even if data is 'erased' it is not really gone. _Master_ had done a good job of removing the obvious black on white records of where he had gone, what he had done to create the Amber identity, but by 'feeling' my way through the drive I found those forgotten records, grey impressions of what had been done left behind. It was like following a trail through thick snow after a fresh dusting. Everything was indistinct but still evident if you took the time to really look.

I just followed the trail of breadcrumbs, sweeping up the pieces behind me, wiping the memory smooth as I went. It was actually somewhat easy once I had the whole picture and programs originally used to duplicate the work done to create Amber for myself. I actually made two new identities while I spirited through the net. One for use, and another to run with if I had to. I didn't make the mistake of duplicating every single step, of putting information into the same schools or financial institutions as Amber, but most of the rest of the information could be fabricated by following the yellow brick road he had already laid out.

I even improved on his process in some cases. The birth records were one spot. While the 'insert date' could be spoofed from the user side, the system kept its own record of creation and updates to data. Particularly obvious from my own perspective is where on the hard drive data was stored. Add an entry in 2032 and it would be written in the same location as the rest of the new entries even if the system claimed it was made in 2012. When looking at records that way 'fake' identities or immigrants stood out like a sore thumb.

I don't know how many criminals I may have helped that day but I made sure that after my changes the creation date and location on the hard drive for the entire system once more matched. It wasn't hard, just a matter of telling the system to defragment the drive with a little extra supervision. Every file had been 'touched' again and its own programing moved them into order wiping that final fingerprint that might have given away the game.

'Waking' up I didn't want to move. I was warm, safe, the muscle aches from my revival deep but mellow with another eight hours of rest and recuperation. I felt dizzy as I shifted a little deeper into the enfolding warmth of my master's embrace and it took two endless breaths to realize why.

I was lying in bed, with a man, and I liked it. I liked how his arms felt around me, felt holding me close and, and that was enough of that! Biting my lip I slowly carefully, monitoring his breathing throughout lifted his fingers gingerly from my breast and edged out from under his arm. Carefully lowering it behind me and tucking the blanket back in as I went until I found myself sitting on my butt beside the bed and wondering what was wrong with me.

Scrubbing little granules of dried gick from my eyes, seriously who designs a robot that realistically, I decided today would have to be the great escape, I couldn't afford to stay any longer. I already had a plan. I would wait until _Master_ was off to work and then have his chauffer take me out and drop me off. Okay maybe it wasn't a good one, and I still needed to come up with an excuse as to go out but Jarvis was a boomer, how hard would it really be to convince him?

Realizing my skin was tingling, the impression of lace button's and seams from sleeping in a uniform designed for appearance rather than comfort I hurried to the bath. As it was HIS scent followed me like a shroud, sending conflicting thoughts through my head and I needed to think clearly today. It was 5:32:26, if I hurried there was plenty of time to shower, change, and have breakfast on the table before _Master_ was up, and better still if I was careful there wouldn't be any time for him to get creative before he had to go...

Jarvis was there as I came out of the bath wrapped in a towel, chagrined to realize I didn't have a clue where to find the rest of 'my' cloths. Thankfully he was appropriately terse in showing me to the linen closet. Yay, my room is apparently the linen closet; this was definitely not where I wanted to spend the rest of my life.

Bacon, scrambled eggs, toast, it wasn't about being fancy, it was about having it all ready, warm, and presented just right on the tray when it came to 6:00:00. Entering his room, my steps timed to match the chime of his alarm clock I set the tray on a side table and gently shook him awake positioned to make any half-conscious grope as difficult as possible.

"Master, good morning," I said, in a truly cheerful tone. I was a little surprised not to have to fake it for his benefit, but it felt nice to have everything perfect for him, grand deception or not his smile made it all worthwhile, damn it.

Surprised by breakfast in bed as a wakeup call it took him a minute to get over the lingering effects of the sleeping pills to really grasp the situation. Helping him sit up I set the tray across his lap, and stood aside waiting in case he wanted anything more. "I hope that you slept well." I trailed off a little as he dug into his food torpidly ignoring me and my efforts too focused on the task of eating to return a word of greeting.

Still I stood patiently by as he ate, getting him extra juice once and another slice of toast. He was awake enough by the second request that I think it was more so he could watch me wiggle out of the room and back than from hunger by the way he pushed the tray away right after my return. I can't be certain though as I did have to narrow my eyes and focus hard not to bump into anything as I came and went.

"Amber, you are looking better, but that squinting has to stop." He was looking at me, but just far enough away I couldn't be sure of his expression, but from his tone I could tell he was a bit perturbed.

"I'm sorry Master," I said with a little curtsey of contrition, short black skirt making something of a mockery of the motion. "But I'm afraid that the damage to my eyes will take a very long time to fix if it is not permanent." Being broken made me feel guilty but did give me an idea. As I began to clean up the tray from breakfast I made certain to squint, even when it wasn't necessary. _Masters body language indicates dislike for behavior, modify for maximum approval._

Of course I already knew what I was telling myself, and that's exactly why I ignored my own advice and continued to play up the impairment for the rest of the morning, before and after his shower. I had judged the timing perfectly, and he didn't have any time to spend before work molesting me. As he was making his way towards the doors to depart for the day I judged the moment ripe. _Master's posture and movement indicate irritation and lack of perspective._

"Master, may Jarvis take me out to get glasses today? I want to please you better." I pushed my instincts for all they were worth, hurrying up to his side as I spoke, letting myself rub against his arm as I hung off him, voice wavering, pleading for permission to please him better and letting his hindbrain and instincts overwhelm his common sense. It took me every ounce of willpower to just let go and give my instincts free reign.

"Of course, just be sure to return in time for dinner, something light, your looking much better and I'll want time to make sure you've fully recovered from your illness…" his voice filled with hunger, a tremble running down my spine at the implications. As the door shut behind him I knew I had less than 10 hours 54 minutes 32 seconds left to escape if I wanted to remain 'pure', if a cyberdroid could qualify…

I made myself sit down and relax. I didn't want to spend any longer than I absolutely had to within these walls but if I was going to get the most out of this I would need another transfusion and dialysis session, even if it did cut into escape time.

"Jarvis, I'll need something else to wear to the appointment. This" indicating the black silken leotard and frilly white lace, the latest excuse for a maid's uniform "is not discrete. Oh and not simply another service dress, it wouldn't look right for a maid to have a butler, something normal." Seeing its disdainfully raised eyebrow I decided that wasn't enough. "Jeans and a shirt," rolling my own eyes back at it.

"Try to schedule the appointment at two, and get the transfusion machine ready for use at noon. I'm going to sleep until then, and do what the master told me, heal." Waiting just long enough for a staid "Of course ma'am, as you say something tasteful." I slipped into the _Master's room_ pulling the drapes and shutting off the lights. Faced with the options of his bed or a crick in the neck I decided fuck it and snuggled into comfort lying down as I kicked my housekeeping systems to work as hard as possible on internal repairs.

Waking up, from the dreamlike fugue my recuperative state imposed at noon I stretched and slithered from the silken sheets toward the door even as Jarvis pulled it open. There is something to be said for an internal alarm clock. I felt paradoxically both better and worse for the five hours downtime. I was considerably better as far as the internal bruising went, but having pushed my self-repair systems so hard it was difficult to muster up the energy to stand.

_Warning, circulatory system nearing failure point, blood contamination at 85% nutrient levels low, oxygen capacity at 10% time to system failure 1 hour 2 minutes at current rate of repair._ Really close to my estimates, and nearing the threshold levels I set before going to sleep. Regretfully I reset my systems to a far more or less human speed of healing.

Staggering to my feet I didn't comment at the look on Jarvis' face as it gallantly offered an arm and helped me into the main room. I wasn't about to give it the satisfaction so kept my silence the whole way – even if I did lean rather desperately on its arm for support. Today's procedure was similar to the last, another welter of disturbingly dank blood filled with the detritus of healing cells and recovering organic systems.

Another hour session and I was feeling much better and plotting how to take the dialysis machine with me. I think I was perhaps falling in love with the glorious little case despite the needles its treatment necessitated. After another shower and getting dressed, in a high end women's business suit, what Jarvis apparently feels is discrete… I settled on a very simple straight forward method of making sure it would come with me. I simply picked it up and took it.

Seeing Jarvis opening his mouth to object I beat him to the punch, "I am still recovering from my injuries, as such it is important that this be available should I suffer a relapse while away from the tower. I'm certain Master Flint would prefer that if at all possible we remain discrete and not to call medical services?" I was right, that shut the butler up and even got it to prep the case better than I could have with a final supply of blood and filters packed away in a discrete black carryall.

So it was that I left the GPCC headquarters tower apparently a high powered executive, butler in tow and riding in the back of a luxury car to an appointment with an optician. The checkup itself went quickly. I waived everything but the prescription exam and insisted on waiting for the specialized nano-fac in back to complete my lenses in the store. Here my apparent role of executive paid out in spades, as a simple comment that I worked for Genom and was paying with a company account had the entire process complete in less than an hour.

As Jarvis returned to hustle me back to the car I feigned a spot of weakness, telling him to hurry and get my case. The optometrist was only too eager to help offering me access to the employee break room and as much time as I needed. Sticking Jarvis on guard at the door just made me smile. Its expression was so beautifully constructed to show no hint of objection while conveying so sincerely its disdain of my weak female constitution I could only wonder how they had managed to program it so well.

I just needed enough time to carefully and quietly climb from table to vending machine, move a few ceiling tiles and cautiously make my way through the crawlspace to the employee access behind the store and I would be free. Or.. "Jarvis, I'm feeling a bit better. Could you bring the car around to the near entrance I'll just rest a moment more and join you." It took a little more arguing to make him leave the case with me but human beats boomer, or is that butler, in authority most of the time.

Walking past the store's staff, butterflies in my stomach perhaps, but a very unprofessional grin from splitting my face as the world took shape in sharp focus for the first time in days. Down a level and into the subway and I was ensconced in that metal bullet to freedom. I'd done it, again. Who cared if I was out of place amid the dark and drab clothing of those around me in my silken Armani like clothing? Let the world see.

I, Am, Free!

To Be Continued.

AN:

Thank you for reading. And thanks to the FFML - Fanfiction mailing list for helping me to improve things. Particularly Matthew Campbell, and my pre-reader Turbolift Specialist 2nd class Bear Davidson. A note on chapter headings, 1.1 vs 1.2 or 1.3. Each time I do significant revisions to a chapter I update the point X value so if you stop by and see it has increased you can know your looking at a later revision.


	2. Chapter 2

Frozen Butterfly 2 a story of Bubblegum Crisis

Chapter 2.1 – Strengthening Wings

Emerging from the artificial light of the subway, I could feel my spirit soar. It was buoyed up with the wind I felt blowing through my short white-blond hair. I could go anywhere, do anything I wanted, just so long as you could pay for it on 200,000 yen, and it didn't require international travel or a photo ID.

It had taken a bit of work but I had managed to navigate my way to one of _my master's_ emergency caches. Besides the money it had held a suit, sweats and a set of fake Identification, all equally useless being sized for a 180cm man not a 152cm woman. All of that I left in the locker, taking only the money and a black leather couriers bag it had been held in.

Oh, and a pistol. That last item made me a bit nervous, and was currently resting unloaded at the bottom of the bag rolled up in a men's dress shirt. Nervous or not my heart still raced whenever I contemplated being caught and that fear was reason enough to keep it despite the drawbacks it might have.

I'm not sure exactly what Master was thinking. He had to have put more than two thousand dollars into the rest of the stash, so why had he been so stingy when it came to tucking away what I needed most, Money? At least he had three more stashes and if I was quick they could be mine before he even finished work for the day.

And so they were. Spending the rest of the day fluttering from one stash of goodies to the next I ended up with a parcel of handguns, several large men's shirts, a backpack, windbreaker, courier bag, and briefcase.

So just about the time that _master_ would be expecting diner, I did feel a little bad about letting him down, I had finished my collections and was laying down 18,000 yen in cash for one night at a clean room in a business hotel far enough from the city center they didn't ask for more than a name for the books.

Being careful with my suit, unsure how long I would have to make it last I took it off and laid it out carefully on the bed. It wasn't a serious concern yet, but I knew if I neglected things I might be little better than a tramp by the end of the week.

Stepping naked into the bathroom it struck me again, that feeling of unease, the disassociation between my body and myself. I shouldn't look this way, but it was perfectly natural. Stepping into the shower still felt new, and yet I had taken hundreds of showers in my life. The way water felt running across my skin, the feeling of the warm spray novel on my flesh but the need to shampoo and condition my hair just as I remembered.

It wasn't until I finished drying off, standing before the mirror, vision fuzzy without my glasses, that I had to stop and sit down to catch my emotional balance. I had lost my old body; the fact it was utterly irretrievable finally sinking in. A lump in the depths of my stomach weighed me down. The towel, wrapped high around my bust rather than low around my waist served as a simple but undeniable reminder of my loss.

Stumbling to the main room and throwing myself onto the bed, I lay back, took a deep breath and tried to relax. I needed a distraction, something familiar, something to prove I was still me. Reaching out I felt with senses that were and weren't my own for the wi-fi. As I negotiated my way online, I realized it wasn't quite as free as advertised. The obvious paths were rife with worms and advertising 'features'. Ducking off the common path, I turned instead down a signal verification channel and out into the web.

I drifted there, feelings a rollercoaster of high and low, contemplating the vast digital panorama before me. I didn't know where to go. In fact I didn't have to go anywhere, and I wasn't beholden to anyone, _master,_ but nor did I have anyone to share my excitement with. It felt very desolate being me and I set off, intent on finding something familiar.

I began by tracking down friends; people I remembered from before. It wasn't too hard, even if I did begin to suffer noticeable lag when browsing sites hosted on the far side of the globe. It was odd, somehow having to tell myself where to go before I got there, and knowing I had already moved on before seeing what I had passed along the way. Slowing my pace to match the lag I decided that was an experience better off not repeated, vertigo of the mind is extremely disconcerting.

Unfortunately what I found only made the feelings of loss worse. They had moved on, with families, new friends, my name only mentioned in ancient posts and archives, used fondly once in a blue moon on a facebook page.

My life was all gone. It's a terrible realization to have, that everything you are and were no longer matter, aren't relevant to anyone anymore. And it is a realization I thankfully realized was false as I almost tripped over a small message. Stashed away in the bowels of one of the major transit nodes, along a path chosen by random chance.

"Galatea, are you safe, I'm looking for you?" – PN.

I stared at that short line of text, tucked away in a dark corner of a server used to track ping requests behind the same kind of backdoor path I had shared with one other person. I might have forgotten to breathe for a while, I don't know as in the rush of gratitude and relief I just didn't pay attention for a time.

Now that I was looking I found more discrete messages like that one as I moved back through the servers of Japan and MegaTokyo. Most were months old, but they proved two things, I existed and at least one other person still cared. There were other signs of Pinku Neko's search as well. Messages left on bulletin boards, in mailing lists and web rings, always asking the same thing, if anyone had hear of or from me.

I'm not surprised that no one could answer Pinku Neko's questions; that no one had seen me or even heard of me to offer up help but that was alright. I had seen the effort she, because what guy would use that for a handle I ask, had gone through to find me. It was heartening.

Deciding that trying to hold onto anymore of my old life was like trying to catch a waterfall with bare hands I did what I should have from the start. I went looking for Pinku Neko now and returned to the drop point we had established.

"Where have you been, what happened, why are you mixed up with Genom?" – PN

And after that another one, placed barely five minutes later and I imagined her sitting fretting over me at her keyboard.

"Please stay safe, let me know if I can help." – PN

I wasn't sure how she knew Genom was mixed up with things, but I could answer the rest and left my own message in response.

"I'm free now. I saw you looking for me on the web, thank you, it means a lot. Would love to meet. I'll be where we first met in 24 hours." – Galatea

At first I wasn't sure why I was suddenly nervous enough to employ even that small amount of obfuscation in arranging a meeting but the web didn't feel quite like the haven it had before. It wasn't until after I had checked her old entry portal to the web for the third time without finding a live trace that I realized why it was. Genom, somehow she knew that I was connected to Genom and it wasn't just a guess. If she knew that much, then how secure was I, who else could monitor my movements, were they doing so even now? Spooked, I disconnected and spent a nervous night staring at the ceiling hand twitching for the gun at every nocturnal bump and scrape from the building around me.

When the light of dawn began to peek in my window I still hadn't decided what to do. A trip downstairs for a glass of juice, and packet of instant oatmeal and I was set for the day. _Fluid systems capacity at 90%, _ down 2% since yesterday, I bit my lip, I wasn't sure just how far I might be able to push it but that drop in the course of a single day did nothing to make me comfortable about my long term survival arrangements.

_800,000 yen, 18,000 a day, a 2.25% drop,_ At least I would have money up until my blood supply could no longer sustain me. Pushing that maudlin thought aside I decided I needed to move on before I drove myself to death with worry.

There were still hours, _15:22:21_ until I needed to be online to meet Pinku Neko. While I suppose I could just wait quietly in the hotel until then I had no intention of sitting idly and letting time go to waste.

I still needed a job and a place to stay, not necessarily in that order but without it long term integration or survival was a pipe dream. The obvious first place to start looking was on the web, but as I sat in one of the moderately comfortable chairs in my room browsing I realized a few things quickly. Any legal job I might actually want would require greater experience than my apparent youth would allow me to claim, and I would need to get some kind of physical documentation. My other option would be illegal, probably criminal jobs and living under the radar. While I could always try to find another natural history museum to crash at I didn't fancy the risks inherent for a woman in that lifestyle.

The second thing that became obvious was more distressing, and the reason so much of the city remained a slum with high levels of gang violence. There simply were few if any unskilled jobs available. All those unskilled positions already taken by cheap boomer labor and while technically I suppose I qualified on those grounds I wasn't about to put that on my resume.

I also didn't dare simply spam the web with a resume. I would need to put too much information about myself on it. Although _Master Flint _wasn't likely to be able to hunt me down without help, if I put my name up in lights he just might find me. Once that happened I didn't fancy my chances of remaining free.

Even creating a printed resume however quickly eluded me when I realized I didn't have a phone, or address. I could fix the first now, the second might be a bit harder. Heading out I took my briefcase, one of the pistols safely hidden inside.

Walking the streets, it felt like everyone knew what I was. I could feel the stares following me as I headed to the subway station. As I glanced around people would look away caught staring. It was unnerving and I nearly panicked as I checked my reflection in the glass of a nearby store. I turned this way and that, but couldn't see anything wrong. My suit and skirt were fine, I hadn't forgotten anything and there was no indication that the men's briefcase held anything other than papers.

There wasn't anything on my face, I was getting ready to tear my pixie cut hair out in frustration when I caught the expression on the face of a man standing behind me and realization struck. They weren't staring because they could tell I was a boomer, or a liar or had a gun. They were staring because I was beautiful.

It was something of a shock. Never had my self-image encompassed the concept of being so unreservedly desirable. Sure I had always thought of myself as attractive enough, but never anything more than that. It was almost as shocking as realizing I had become a woman; the visceral gut level realization that when people saw me that they saw the perfection mirrored in the window before me.

Suddenly self-conscious for an entirely different reason I grasped my briefcase with both hands to hold it steady and bolted for the subway entrance. Pausing halfway down the stairs to the platform I leaned against the wall embracing the privacy in this in between place, apart if only briefly from the stream of humanity waiting above and below me.

How had I managed to get dressed, to look at myself in the mirror and not recognize so obvious a fact? Hell how had I missed realizing that as a sexaroid of course I would be attractive, no that didn't do me justice, stunningly beautiful? Thankfully hyperventilating was a thing of the past, a mechanically governed pulmonary system easily capable of regulating my breath.

I spent the rest of the journey on almost literal autopilot, floating in my mind until I had regained my equilibrium as I made my way onto the streets of Akihabara from Shinbashi station. It was an odd feeling as I emerged from the cocooning dark of the tunnel into the breezy light of the day.

I was free.

But it was more than just that. I wasn't just free, I was liberated, I could almost feel past modes of thought flaking away under the realization of my new existence and desirability. As I walked toward Akihabara feeling the sun shining on my face I let myself revel in the attention of the crowds.

It might be cheap, and superficial, but these people either wanted to be me, or be with me. Either way I loved it. The gnawing darkness inside, that wanted to rail against god and fate for having done this to me couldn't compete with these new sun drenched feelings of pleasure. I was alive, healthy, lucky enough to be free and strong. It was time for me to stop complaining about what had happened and revel in it. I had won the lottery and only just realized it.

Sure taxes take half of the prize; I had had to pay a steep price, my whole previous life, but when you consider that I had been dead it really isn't too much to ask for in exchange for a new one and I wasn't going to squander it.

Starting my day at the Uniqlo store not far from Shinbashi station I set out to find a second set of cloths. I was originally planning on jeans and a t-shirt, simple, easy, and cheap. But with my epiphany I realized I didn't want to blend in. I was enjoying the feel of people staring. It was only once inside the cool crisp and most importantly clean air of the department store that I realized what I should have noticed much sooner.

I was almost panting with desire. The pheromones from so many people building up brick by brick until my housekeeping program had almost entirely taken over! That was like a cold shower and even more effective at cooling my bodies ardor. The realization of my beauty still there, but now I wasn't quite so sure it was as much a blessing as I had thought.

Deciding that for now I didn't want to stand out I 'browsed' while actually watching the other customers. I spent an hour playing a little guessing game with myself trying to predict what they would actually buy. Not just try on with friends, or claim was perfect but what they actually walked out with in a bag. A simple blouse, t-shirt, and a knee length skirt later I walked out the first of my goals for the day reached.

So, with new a new awareness of self, and lightness in my stride I dove into the madness of Akihabara the electronics market to fill the second, getting phone.

I took my time looking. One advantage of the open air markets and a wide street was that whenever I felt the mass of humanity overwhelming my senses I could find a convenient crossing or breeze to take the edge off. The expedition as much about learning control as finding a phone.

Without a job time wasn't money, and cellular plans in MegaTokyo were expensive, incredibly so. It was only incomprehensible until I took a peak at the blinding EM spectrum once more. At some point in the last twenty five years broadband saturation levels had been reached. The only way to find room for more bandwidth was to take it back from someone else.

So it was that I found myself buying a cellphone sophisticated enough it could have taken the place of my old laptop for only 2,500 yen yet paying 100 yen a minute for speech and 200 if I wanted to use the web or streaming features.

Still this model had 'me' compatible Bluetooth as well as regular I/O ports, though the salesman warned me that the reception distance wouldn't be much more than twenty meters downtown, or five in Akihabara due to signal interference. I thanked him anyway and spent 300 yen setting up my voicemail draining a tenth of the free minutes I had gotten with it.

Phone down, but now I needed to find a place to stay. Unfortunately most of the nicer ones would want proof of employment, while most jobs would want proof of residence. I wouldn't have considered the latter to be a real hindrance before. I mean, I had always had a 'previous address' in the past. Maybe I could claim to be a tourist, that might keep them from doing a job check…

Still busy ruminating over what my chances of being able to get an apartment might be I heard a brief scuffle and turned in time to see a punk, spiked leather hair and all finish tearing a woman's purse from her shoulder and start for an alley not twelve feet, _4.63 meters,_ from me. Shoving and elbowing his way clear he took two running steps and was looking over his shoulder when the edge of my briefcase caught him in the elbow.

I hadn't really thought it through but was committed now. Following up the strike I stepped in and shoved the ganger further on his way, the purse dropping to the street from his suddenly numb fingers. As the ripples started to spread outward drawing more attention the punk glanced from me to the purse and then the crowd before continuing on his way cradling his arm as he ran out of view.

"Oh thank you very much." Turning to the voice I saw the woman, young, but probably older than I looked rising from a bow. Her face flush with signs of adrenaline and the short chase that had brought her even with me and her now recovered purse. "I'm so glad he didn't get away, I've got my whole life in here."

"It's nothing, really, I'm just glad to have been able to help." It took a few more moments of politely accepting her thanks before I could slip away. The incident having sparked a thought for me, could it be just that simple? Go to the Prefecture office and claim my identity had been stolen?

My spirits lifted, not so much by my good deed as my new plan and I started walking quickly back through the crowded streets to take the subway back to my hotel. I had some information gathering to do. I would hate to walk into the Japanese equivalent of the DMV and slip up on some minor detail.

An hour and another 18,000 yen poorer had me back in my hotel room. Business skirt and Jacket hung neatly in the closet. Sipping tap water from the complementary plastic cup I lay back in bed getting ready to go net diving again.

It wasn't really necessary, and I could even split my attention between the real world and the web if I wanted but somehow it just felt right to lay back and close my eyes before diving in, I guess I was just too new at true multitasking to be comfortable any other way.

Leaving a feeler out on the meeting grounds for Pinku Neko I proceeded to scour the net for everything I could on just how you went about getting a MPI (multi-purpose identification) card. It handled just about everything you could want in 2032, drivers license, voter registration, biometrics and medical records, census info, passport and national ID, criminal record, social security information the works. It could even if desired serve as a repository for secure banking and other non-governmental but approved purposes.

It was a bit daunting just how much was tied into that little 85.6 x 53.98mm piece of plastic and its integrated chip. So much that I wasn't sure I even could just walk in to get one printed. For one thing I didn't even know what my own biometric data would show much less how to explain away its probable absence in their files. The upcoming meeting with PN suddenly took on a greater level of importance. I needed one of those cards, and I couldn't get one alone.

So my pulse began to race as my feeler picked up an arrival at our meeting site and I rushed off to join her.


	3. Chapter 3

Frozen Butterfly 2 a story of Bubblegum Crisis

Chapter 3.1 – Finding a Home

There really isn't an electronic analogue for a comforting hug. If there were when I recognized Neko's digital presence I would have squeezed the electrons out of it. As it happened though the best I could do was give her an appropriately energetic welcome.

Galatea: *hugs* :)

Pinku Neko: Hello to you too Galatea…

There was a brief pause as I felt a tingle run down my spine, or thought that I did before she went on.

Pinku Neko: I'm glad to see you've gotten free, but are you alright, are you safe?

I could imagine concern in her tone, a look of worry on her face as she sat before her computer waiting on my response.

Galtea: "Yes, I'm fine, at least for now. This time I really did get away, at least I think so. I must have had a tracker on me last time, but I just wanted to let you know how much your help means to me, and how glad I was when I realized you hadn't forgotten I exist."

I continued on, my words appearing at the speed of thought, perhaps she wouldn't notice or just assume I was a very quick typist.

Galatea: "It was Genom, but how did you know, I mean, I didn't think I had been traced so how did you know who had me?"

I paused trying to think how to go on. Typing at the speed of thought is very well and good, but it still doesn't help when those thoughts become muddled and mixed up, trying to think of what to say, while simultaneously having to make sure you're not actually transmitting your thoughts and only what you do want to say. I was heavily caught up in this conundrum when I got the next response.

Pinku Neko: I followed your trail and realized you had left that message from within GPPC.

I wasn't sure how to answer that and her next line of text just made it worse.

Pinku Neko: Amber, it's alright.

Pinku Neko: I saw that contract and I know it's a fake, but you don't have to worry we can go to the police and I can prove it for you.

That shocked me to the core. Neko knew, well she didn't know but thought she knew what was going on. Still the last thing I could let happen was get the police involved, as _Master Flint_ would much rather take the fine for having an illegal boomer than the time for kidnapping and illegal confinement. Still trying to put together the perfect answer I received another prompt.

Pinku Neko: Amber?

It had been too long, _00:01:32_ since I had received the message.

Galatea: "My name's not Amber…" Was all I could think to say at first, but then the floodgates opened, the reference to Flint passing from thought to text without notice as I continued a sudden brainstorm coming to mind.

Galatea: "It's not that easy, I can't just go to the police, I'll get in trouble, at least as much as Master Flint," the reference to him passing from thought to text without notice as I continued a sudden brainstorm coming to mind. "I, when Genom had me… I'm a boomeroid now, I don't have any rights. They might decide to, retire me. I don't even legally exist anymore." Ironically I realized it was the strictest truth rather than the white lie I had decided to tell as I went on. "The name and contract were just fabrications Master made to cover himself in case anyone noticed after he finished. I can't go back to my real life, its gone, I've looked and there's nothing to go back to."

Tears dripped down my cheeks, a very small part of me noting the drop in fluids as the rest of my body shook with emotion.

Galatea: "I'm sorry, I'm making a mess of this, but I just can't go to the police."

I waited, long agonizing seconds ticking past for a response. What would they think, what might they do, had I said too much, lost a friend? No.

Pinku Neko: It's alright, we don't need to go to the police but, I do want to help.

Pulling myself back together, relief drying my tears and stilling my shakes she went on before I could interrupt.

Pinku Neko: Maybe I can still help, but we should meet

Pinku Neko: in real life.

Pinku Neko: Do you trust me?

That question didn't require any introspection. Of course I did, besides I didn't have anyone else to trust.

Galatea: "Yes, absolutely."

There was a slight pause as what almost seemed like a breeze ruffled through the node around us before I got a response.

Pinku Neko: Good, how about the Starbucks outside the Tozai line station 1?

Splitting my concentration I did a web search for the Tozai line and realized that I had somehow 'felt' her do a quick search earlier; as the exact same sensation ran through me as I did my own research. The Tozai line station wasn't far from me, and I could get there from the Chuo line easily enough or walk the mile from the hotel.

Now that I was thinking again I realized just how…perfect the choice was. Close enough to be easy for me to find, but far enough from the hotel not to be threatening or spook me. Giving into the urge I just had to ask.

Galatea: "So… do you have my room number yet? :)" I threw in the smiley face to reassure them that I wasn't upset.

Pinku Neko: Well…

Pinku Neko: okay yes, I do, but, don't freak out, I just wanted to make sure you really weren't still trapped by Genom.

Galatea: "It's alright, thanks for being honest about it… so, uh, tonight any good?" Already thoughts of leaving ran around in the back of my head. Could I really trust her? She seemed to know everything about me, and I didn't know anything in exchange, not really. The fear of being captured again causing me to doubt her just as quickly as I had already come to trust.

Pinku Neko: No sorry, I can't I'm at work now

Pinku Neko: but tomorrow at 8am?

Galatea: "Of course, how will we recognize each other?" The nervous sensation in my stomach busy churning, even as I agreed to meet, over if I could trust her that far. Finally however I decided I had to risk it. She was my only friend, the only person I knew or could count on. And she had helped me in the past, she had been there when I needed her, I would give her my trust, for now.

Pinku Neko: Don't worry, I've got a picture.

Galatea: "Alright, but what about you? I don't have a picture to go by…"

Pinku Neko: It's better not to put too much out on a public server like this. Even if it is tucked neatly behind the city's firewalls, we can both attest their security isn't the best.

Pinku Neko: Don't worry, I'll find you.

Seconds after my decision to trust and already it was being put to the test. Still I had to grudgingly grant that they had a point.

Galatea: "Alright, but if I'm a little jumpy you'll have to forgive me, deal?"

Pinku Neko: Deal

Pinku Neko: But I really do need to get back to working, just, stay safe, and be careful.

Pinku Neko: See you soon

And with that I was alone, Neko's presence in the server gone taking some of the liveliness of the net with it.

Returning my focus to the hotel room and disconnecting from the net left me feeling oddly cramped. A few minutes of stretching didn't seem to help but did reassure me that I was healing well, _fluid systems capacity at 87%, epidermal layer 99%, internal organic systems 94%, ocular systems 81% - further recovery impossible,_ or at least everything but my vision was. It made me wonder what kind of warranty I had come with and where the little void if removed sticker was.

Shaking my head at that silly line of thought I could only wonder how Neko had managed to get a picture of me. I didn't remember anyone with a camera while I was awake, and before that, well, presumably if someone had taken one of me in a cryogenic storage tank Neko wouldn't be so quick to help.

I let my concern over things that might go wrong occupy my thoughts late into the evening. Staring at the blurry ceiling I imagined the police just waiting to take me in and decommission me, or _Master_ waiting with a squad of boomers to take me back to his bed in chains, finally the image of Mason, waiting smugly for me to arrive before he informed me that I never had a chance, and with a bang I was dead.

From those three basic fears came a million more and I knew it was time to 'sleep' when my mind threw out the silly idea that Neko was a slave trader and would kidnap me to sell into an American family as the adopted Asian girl they always wanted for a child, not considering my physical age as I was really only a few months old… I might be able to go without rest for a while without getting too drowsy but, definitely time to sleep.

Waking up, I snapped immediately to full awareness. I could tell hear the rumble of cars outside, and feel the warmth of a beam of sunlight that lay across the sheets covering me. I let out a sigh finding myself unable to really enjoy remaining supine. It wasn't so much that I wanted to get up, as that lying in bed is really improved by the long slow march towards consciousness enjoyed by so much of the world, other than me.

Carefully getting up I found myself instinctively stretching. Contorting myself like a pretzel without realizing just why, at least until the question occurred to me. _Initiating self-maintenance routine for biologic components, estimated run time 01:06:23 given lack of facilities._

As I continued to go through what quickly became a somewhat recognizable exercise routine near enough on autopilot that it didn't make a difference I delved deeper into my own mind to get a better idea of the reasons for it. Apparently it was part of the maintenance required to stay physically fit and attractive, and as I huffed my way through crunches, pushup's and more esoteric exercises I couldn't help but laugh a little at myself.

This was mandated behavior, and while I could override it if I needed to it was funny thinking about what might happen over time to a sexaroid that did. Nobody would want a fat sex toy, and certainly my _master_ would want me to stay in good shape for him, just the thought of which helped me through the rather grueling workout.

Flopping down onto the bed, covered in a sheen of sweat and breathing heavily as I recovered I let myself focus on the bi-weekly status report that had been generated as a result of my 'maintenance'. The initial overview now familiar to me, _fluid systems capacity at 84%, epidermal layer 100%, internal organic systems 95%, ocular systems 82% - further recovery impossible,_ but the more detailed breakdown that followed was intriguing. It listed off the numerous small concerns triggered by utilizing human blood rather than the custom artificial I had been designed for and the slight chemical imbalances caused by my diet so far. More useful to me given my lack of a degree in advanced cybernetics, bio-chemistry, or boomer engineering were the proposed solutions to mitigate the onset of future issues.

Aside from a warning against pre-processed food items, an injunction to consume 15ml of purified synthetic oils a day, and to eat food I would consider organic whenever possible came the largest surprise. Purified water alone would nearly double the operating life of a natural blood supply allowing far more efficient filtering of the contaminants inherent with that system of operation.

Of course it also recommended that I take the obvious steps of switching back to Genom branded synthetic blood, or at least change my organic supply on a weekly basis. Neither of those seemed to be a likely possibility in the coming weeks.

Reluctantly getting up I forced myself to stumble into the shower giving the blurry rug a glare as I almost tripped. First bad vision and now getting tired, didn't they know that robots are supposed to be monolithic perfect, metronomic beings that work at 100% capacity up until the moment they ran out of power and shut down? Stupid designers wanting a truly organic sex toy…

A half hour in the shower and I was feeling much better about life. The fatigue from my earlier exertions was gone, I felt clean and fresh, and if I squinted I could pretend that even my eyesight was getting better. Dithering a moment I decided on wearing the black skirt and purple blouse that I picked up the day before, but instead of the dress shoes from my suit I slipped on the simple tennis shoes. Not as good as Nikes but better than dress shoes if it turned out I had to run. I tucked my phone and one of the pistols into my messenger bag, slipped on my glasses and took a look at myself in the mirror.

Finger combing my hair back I gave the attractive girl with the sea green eyes a smile for effect, my cheeks dimpling and eyes seemed to brighten. At the very least if the meeting went wrong I could call for help and I bet any young men in the vicinity would come running. A strange tingle in my spine at the idea gave me an inkling that I didn't want to examine that plan any deeper.

I reluctantly parted with another 18,000 yen at the front desk on my way out, leaving me with only 731,110 yen left to my name. The exact figure coming quickly as I ran over my recent purchases. That was handy; at least I wouldn't ever be in danger of becoming overdrawn if I did manage to get a bank account.

Today the trailing, admiring glances disturbed me less and the huddled mass of humanity and their pheromones bothered me more as I rode the subway towards my meeting with Neko. Some random memory from watching "Burn Notice" in my old life telling me I should try scoping out the area beforehand if I wanted to be a 'real' spy.

I was unfortunately aware given my senses and an intrinsic database of behavioral reactions just what the business man who was slowly creeping towards me after each subway stop had in mind. Unfortunately for him I had no intention to play that game with anyone, not even _Master Flint_, and so he found himself pin wheeling his arms for balance as I timed a light shove just right as he finally made his move, passing him without another thought on my way out as the subway pulled into my stop.

Halfway up the stairs to the world above I paused to smile and smooth back down my blouse and skirt. The lack of attention or heavy scents of male, and female, pheromones allowed me to clear my head and put that set of conflicting thoughts and autonomic reactions behind me. Thus fortified, mind clear for the moment I stepped out into the streets above and the liberty they promised.

The chosen Starbucks was just another curbside store tucked into the first floor of a tall building full of neon signs mixing English and Japanese. They were still half-incomprehensible despite the fact I now knew both languages perfectly. In fact, if the street had been a bit cleaner, the foot traffic heavier, and less piercings and leather on display I could have mistaken the spot for Japan of thirty years ago.

Not sure what I expected to find, or really what a proper pre-scout entailed I walked around the block twice and noted where the nearest bus's and subway stations were. What looked like a corner drugstore turned squatters camp held court one block over and I determined to myself that I was NOT going to run that way in an emergency. The bikers there might help if I asked, but that could end as bad or worse than anything else I might get myself into.

An hour still to go before my meeting I stepped into a Lawson's convenience store back on the main street near the Starbucks. Picking up a bottle of distilled water and a small vial of oil for automatic clippers I turned to consider my breakfast choices. The pickings were pretty slim.

Given my new diet just about the only thing I could eat was a pair of hard boiled eggs. Purchases in hand I stepped back out into the growing warmth of the day. The eggs were dry, tasting a bit like talc to my new palate, but the water helped wash them down. The oil on the other hand I have to say was a treat. Sweet, and slick just a few drops on my tongue were enough to bring a small smile to my lips and I knew chocolate had met its match. I just needed to find an appropriately discrete delivery method so I didn't look like a junkie with a bottle of designer drugs.

Impromptu breakfast complete and new guilty pleasure carefully tucked away in my satchel I debated things in my head one last time, nerves trying to get the better of me. Should I stay, or run. This could all just be a trap and I would never be free again. The possibility filled me with a nameless dread and almost I found myself turning to walk away. It was only the thought of being alone without anyone and cut off from _Master_ that gave me the courage to turn back and take that first step.

Which of course lead to the second and so on until I was sitting in a booth with a clear line of sight to the door nursing a cup of green tea as I slowly but surely destroyed one straw after another waiting for time to pass. The one good thing here is that it didn't seem to slow down, instead continuing on with the same metronomic precision as it had since I first woke up to this life.

Business was steady, a near constant line of drones coming in the door, getting their coffee or tea and then shuffling back out without the least variation of routine. It was impressive noting how many managed the daily ritual without even needing to place their order the boomers behind the counter were so familiar with them.

I noticed at once when she came in. She was short, cute, smaller than most everyone I had met so far and I wondered if I had finally met someone tinier than myself. There was nothing of the half asleep daze of the regulars in her emerald eyes, a richer deep green than mine, and already darting about the store to find me. It wasn't a surprise then to see her bright red hair bounce with the quickness of her stride as she moved to join me at the table.

Rising I offered her a polite bow, half wondering if I should have offered my hand instead, two sets of instincts clashing, but for now the culturally appropriate one winning out. "Hi, um, it's nice to meet you, I don't think we've really been properly introduced. I'm Kari."

Rising out of our respective bows I suppressed a slight groan. No luck, even she was taller than me! A glance down to her shoes confirmed it, both of us in flats and she had a clear _4cm_ advantage. Letting out my breath and with it the disappointment at still being the shortest I didn't let the emotion reach my face.

"Hi, I'm Nene." She answered, before gesturing to the chair and at my hurried nod sat down across from me, waiting for me to do the same before going on. "I'm really glad that you're alright. I did a little checking on Flint and, I'm just glad you're out of there." Her words stumbled over one another as she spoke her tone tripping from relief to disgust and back quickly.

Giving into my instincts I let out a little shiver as she spoke of _master_, the action calculated to play on her sympathy before I even consciously realized my manipulation. A little grimace at myself as much as at the implications in her tone I spoke back up before her imagination could get away from her. "I'm glad too, but I just want to put it behind me."

Nodding in sympathy and what she believed to be understanding Nene huffed a little. "Well we won't let him get away with it. We're going to take your life back no matter what!"

I was surprised by her enthusiasm and vehemence into silence. Sitting there I looked at the equally petite woman across the table from me as she began to outline a plan to get me back into society. Her drive and passion were obvious, eyes flashing as she spoke. I was caught, captivated by her presence and unable to do much more than nod and smile in agreement to everything she said.

It took almost fifteen minutes for her to fully outline her plan, and for me to regain the nerve to speak. She was just so, vivacious… "Don't you think a job working for the prefectural government is a bit risky, I mean the licensing department itself, won't they realize mine is fake?"

To which she shook her head with a smile. "It's perfect don't you see? I get you hired in one prefecture, print up a building pass and employment ID, and then get you 'transferred' to another location. All without needing a real Identification card or address. After that you just need to find the time and you can print up your own 100% real and official documents. We'll probably need to list you as 65% boomer depending on your biometrics, but, while it's skirting the line that way you won't have to worry about the police making a mistake or losing your freedom just because Genom tried to take your rights away." She finished triumphantly as if all my problems were so easily solved.

It was hard to argue with her plan after that, more because of her enthusiasm and smile than on any logical kind of basis. I could feel myself tearing up a bit as I spoke, "Thank you so much. Do you really think it will work? I don't want you to risk yourself on my behalf and it sounds dangerous trying to do so much just for me. I could always find something else…" I made the suggestion even though I hadn't come up with another single feasible option for myself outside of hooker that might allow the kind of independence she was offering.

"Of course it will, just leave everything to me." Her smile was infectious and filled with confidence. This was why it took me longer than normal to realize what she had on underneath the light windbreaker as her change in posture caused it to gap open.

My own smile still wide as I returned her grin I noticed something flash on her blouse, and eyes traveling down I could feel my expression going blank. That little gleam was from a nice, shiny, little police badge, placed on the breast of a white dress shirt complete with black tie and printed name. Alone that would have been enough to sour the mood but it wasn't just a police badge. It was an AD police badge, for boomer crimes, the people who were responsible for finding and stopping rogue boomers, like myself, or boomeroids, like "Officer Romanova" thought I was.

The world grew dark, sound going flat as I looked up my eyes meeting hers. I could count the milliseconds before she realized something was wrong, enthusiasm turning to confusion in her eyes as she recognized my change in posture.

Compressing time I pushing myself hard and had all the opportunity in the world to analyze her reactions as I slowly rocketed to my feet. The confusion in her eyes slowly shifting to hurt and dismay at my rejection as I took a step back from the table, chair spinning away behind me.

I looked around in a panic for a way out or her backup but there was none. The store only had the front entrance but if she had any backup they weren't inside with her. Licking my lips as I shifted my balance getting ready to run my eyes fell back to my friend and betrayer. The one who was here to take my freedom away again and I stumbled in shock.

Watching her I saw eyes glance down, spotting her own badge and observed as a look of enlightenment lit up her features. I was designed to be able to understand thousands of human expressions, physical cues and react appropriately, but as her eyes moved to meet mine and she called out "wait" there was something in her emerald eyes my housekeeping programs couldn't identify.

It was desperation, apology, a need to explain and more that the portion of me that was still human recognized in her eyes. It was profound enough to snap me back out of compressed time without meaning to. The abrupt change in apparent 'speed' had me slipping on the tile floor, feet going out from underneath and in an almost choreographed fall my forehead met the edge of the table with a ringing bang.

Understandably the sudden movement and noise drew all eyes to us. But instead of a gun and handcuffs as I still half expected shunting aside the shock and spike of pain ringing through my head Nene only greeted me with an expression of worry and a nervous "Are you okay?" as I flopped onto my back.

All I could think of for a moment as I looked up hose covered legs to regulation black skirt was that I really should have recognized the uniform sooner. I had even stared at her work shoes and kicked myself mentally as all I had considered at the time being that they weren't heals.

I accepted her help to sit, then stand back up, offering an apology to the store in general and a slightly suspicious and betrayed look to Officer Romanova. Recognizing the glare for what it was she tried to laugh it off. "Maybe we should go outside…" obviously she didn't want to say anymore while we were still the center of attention.

"That might be best, as long as you don't have any friends waiting." I don't know why I said it, the snarky accusatory tone in my voice the last thing I should include to maintain her trust, or so a little voice deep inside reliably informed me.

Making our way outside like two strange cats I glanced nervously around for any signs she had been lying but there weren't any. No police ready to take me into custody, no snipers on rooftops with anti-material rifles to drop me in my tracks. She had been telling the truth, at least that far.

We settled into an uneasy walk, our strides close enough to allow it to feel almost companionable. I watched her for signs of betrayal, as she watched me, probably wondering if I was about to flip out from cyber psychosis on her. Even if my conscience was calmly pointing out all the signs of contrition in my friend, _subject repentant 89% probable._

Finally as though she couldn't take the silence any longer Nene spoke up. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but online it's not the best idea to go around telling people you're with the police, especially not in the hacker community! And then, when I tried to bring up going to them for help you were so insistent against it."

Quiet for a few steps she went on, "I understand you had good reason, but …what Genom did… I just wanted to help." She fixed eyes filled with conviction and slight accusation upon me then. "I knew you would run if told you the truth. I'm going to help you. I am. I wasn't going to hide it, I just, I meant to work up to things first then just sort of, ease into it."

Looking over at her I felt some of the tension slipping out of my shoulders. She was so painfully earnest and blatantly contrite I just couldn't maintain my feelings of anger or betrayal. Stopping I let my instincts have full reign as I caught her hand in one of mine pulling her to a halt.

Turning to face her squarely I offered a smile in exchange for her nervous frown. Taking a step forward I pulled her into a gentle hug with my free arm. I could feel the tension slipping away as I whispered, mouth near her ear, "I forgive you, and I'm sorry I panicked, I should have given you more trust than that."

Feeling the nervous tension dissipating I stepped back just before her ingrained social conditioning could replace it with another cause of tension due to our proximity. Looking up the very slight rise to meet her befuddled gaze squarely with my own I went on. "You are a better friend than I deserve, and I am incredibly lucky to have found you." A last squeeze of her hand and I let go, contentment in my heart, and a high probability of successful emotional connections having been made in my processors.

We both took long cleansing breaths, before starting back down the block by unspoken mutual consent. "So, what were you doing out on the net posing as a hacker anyway. Are you a part of some cyber-crimes division and planning to take me in for breaking into a government server?"

She blushed a little and shook her head "No, not really." She chewed on her lower lip in a cute little gesture. _Indications subject weighing value of relationship against value of secret, 62% likelihood of positive decision._ I don't know if it really was such a near thing, but I know I was relieved when she decided in my favor.

"I'm sort of, freelance. I just do that on my own time, for fun, you know?" Looking at me with a slightly sheepish grin I could tell it wasn't the whole story but enough I felt relief in the trust she had showed by sharing it.

"So then, what do you do for the police?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me as our steps again found a comfortable rhythm, this time my feet leading the way, generally towards my hotel. It wasn't a short walk but I didn't know where else to go.

"I'm a data analyst, but also have to serve as a dispatcher." At my raised eyebrow she seemed to take a little bit of offense. "The ADP doesn't have the manpower or budget to get by without all of us working extra hard!"

Cheek twitching with the urge to smile I just nodded. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it, just, I guess I thought that you would have boomers doing that kind of a job."

"Trust our lives to a boomer? No way!" Nene's denial came fast and exuberant.

I concealed the wince at her unknowing denunciation. It made sense to me that if your primary job was fighting boomers you might not put so much trust in them, but the intellectual knowledge did little to sooth her rejection. Instead I tried shifting the focus of things. "So do you really think your plan will work, you can really get me a job in a government records office?"

The return of her broad smile was reassuring and lit up her face, the confidence very becoming on the young officer. "Of course" and looking around she confided quietly, "How do you think I got my current job?" Something must have sparked in her mind though as she looked me over a moment more before asking. "Just how old are you anyway?"

The question was a hard one. Flattering and insulting all at once, and none of the true answers I could give seemed reasonable. I could hardly claim to be in my sixties, and just as clearly couldn't claim the five years my physical body had been in existence. Even averaging it to put me in my thirties didn't seem right. At best I figured that with my body I could claim low to mid-twenties as I had with my fake ID.

Sneaking another longer peek at Nene I did a quick evaluation. She didn't look like she could be much more than twelve, okay, to be honest more like eighteen or nineteen herself, and my instincts told me to eliminate any perceived age difference to foster additional bonds. "Nineteen," I watched her closely for any signs of distress and seeing nothing but relief _78% certainty_ on her features knew I was close enough to both meet her expectations and to her own age that there wouldn't be any problems.

Spotting a restaurant on the way she shanghaied me for coffee and pastries, to make up for the ones she'd missed because of my earlier panic and just talked. We talked for hours, half of our conversation covering serious topics such as planning the details of my new life, and the other half we spent telling each other stories of our life and growing up; mine all appropriately modified of course. I let her know I was originally an American, though of Norwegian and Welsh decent, and a little about my childhood. She shared stories of growing up in MegaTokyo and her exploits in high school. I was surprised to realize she was probably at the low end of my age estimate and her comments about hacking her way onto the police force made more sense. If I was right she probably still wasn't old enough to be legally employed there and I wondered just how old her co-workers thought she was.

Eventually though she apologized and had to excuse herself to go to work, promising me to let me know when things had been arranged. With a final exchange of email and phone information we both went our separate ways. Hers bouncing all charged up with the sugar she had finished eating and myself feeling a little bloated. The Cinnamon roll had been good in a tangy sour patch kid's kind of way, but after breakfast this morning I really should have known to order something smaller; my body really just wasn't up to eating very much.

As I walked the rest of the way 'home' to my hotel room I ruminated on how quickly life can change. Last night I saw the future stretching out with a bleak unforgiving lonely monotony. Then a butterfly flapped its wings and in a few short hours that desolate vision was torn to pieces by a hurricane.

Being patient is hard. I wanted everything to happen right now even though I knew it couldn't. It took me an unreasonably long time to realize that I didn't have to just sit quietly in my hotel room waiting for the phone to ring. I knew I would have a job, and that meant that I could work on getting a place to stay. No matter how kind Nene had been so far and how well we seemed to get along I didn't want to even contemplate the risk of ruining things by asking her if I could be a roommate. Our friendship was too new, and the risk of her realizing the truth about me too great.

Instead I started searching the web for places to stay. There were more options than I was expecting, even if half of them were well out of my expected salary range and despite the electrons I could almost smell the sleaze coming from the other half. One ad even so bold as to list rent as being, "10,000 yen plus favors a month", female tenants only. It's nice to see that the future is such a fine and upstanding time to live.

Buckling down and comparing crime statistic maps against the locations of those apartments that I could afford, a very limited number given my meager resources; I finally came up with three halfway decent options that didn't have Reikin or Shikikin, purchase and deposit costs that could run as much as 8 months of rent together. A little more checking narrowed it down to just two, the third requiring a year's rent in advance something out of reach even with the reduced monthly rent. Unfortunately it was the best of the three. That left one near an area of dropping crime and fairly convenient to the city center, from the photos it actually looked far nicer than the rent being asked and I knew there had to be a catch. The other was little more than a shoebox but the violent crime rate for the neighborhood was almost suspiciously low.

With nothing else to do to pass the time I set out to check on each. Unfortunately it had gotten late enough that the subway line was packed. Sliding through gaps in the crowd I found myself a pole to hang onto against the dizzying rush of sound and smells.

I couldn't help but react, body betraying mind; I leaned against the cool metal for support, drowning in a sea of pheromones. Angry, desperate, yearning, frustrated, aroused, all of the stronger emotions of mankind lapping against me like waves, and no matter what I tried to tell myself I couldn't keep from reacting as designed. Pulling discretely at my blouse helped hide the most visible response, but any parents around would have been familiar with the slow motion pee pee dance I ended up doing to keep from making a more embarrassing scene of myself with the pole.

I lasted just two stops before I had to flee the confines and went running for the privacy of the women's loo to hide tears of frustration and shame from the world at large. _Master would be getting home soon, and would be looking for me, he could make it all go away, he could provide the relief I needed._ I actually found myself wiping my face wanting to look better for him when I realized just where those thoughts had come from and brutally suppressed them again.

Deep slow breaths,

deep slow breaths,

deep slow breaths and the pheromone count was low enough to think clearly again.

I needed a better way to travel, at least during rush hour or I wouldn't make it till my fluidics gave out, I would be just one more statistic, one more rogue boomer and notch on the belt of some AD Policeman. It wouldn't take those mysterious Knight Sabers from the news to subdue me.

Climbing the stairs to the surface I got my jittery feelings under control again. Instead of looking at everyone around me my subconscious working to analyze just what they might desire I could think of them as people again instead of walking bundles of needs I could fulfill.

The cooling evening air and warm brick of the building I leaned against helped too, calming me further as I rested with my eyes shut trying NOT to think too deeply on what had just happened. It had been worse this time. Was it because I had been away from my Master longer, because I had made an emotional connection, or just some kind of timer urging my body to function as designed. Searching my 'owner's manual' didn't provide any answers but it did take long enough that I drew some attention.

"Hey you, no loitering." Eyes snapping open I pushed off of the wall to face the voice and had to look up to get past the imposing breadth of chest in a coal black suit and fine tie to meet my reflection in dark sunglasses below short slicked back hair.

Mind going a mile a minute, or kilometer I suppose I should say given I was in japan I realized two things. The first that adding what looked to be a tattoo peeking out beneath the cuff of his black shirt on one wrist to the other clues meant that this man was probably yakuza, and that it was possible from my appearance and behavior he thought I was a hooker, stoned, or both.

Still blocks away from the second apartment site I knew now why the crime rate was so low, at least reported crimes. Giving the enforcer a deep bow I scrambled to extricate myself from the situation. "Please excuse me fine sir. I was simply catching my breath. The subway was very crowded; I did not mean to intrude. I will be more careful in the future." Holding the bow I watched his feet shuffle slightly trying to gauge his body language from the knees down.

Apparently the truth will set you free, at least some of the time. With a grunt he responded with a simple "good." Before his feet scuffed the ground and he headed back joining several other young, similarly dressed men standing around the parking entrance of a building across the street.

Hesitating only a moment I headed out on foot for the apartment. The walk would be good for clearing the air and the time it took would hopefully see the subways clear of the rush hour crush. When I got there and was shown the matchbox sized apartment I was not impressed. Maintaining a polite veneer for the landlord I knew I wouldn't be back unless the final possibility on my list had some kind of serious hidden flaw to outweigh the small, cramped, and noisy environment this one had turned out to have.

Hesitating at the yawning mouth of the subway stairs once more I dithered for long moments, _00:00:14,_ before descending. Tensing up the deeper I got expecting the worse until standing on the platform I realized I was worried over almost nothing. Without the overwhelming wave of humanity during rush hour my body was barely tingling from the leftover pheromones. Relieved I slipped onto the ever efficient subway system making my way to the other spot that might become my new home.

It was dusky, night falling in truth as I walked from the subway towards the housing complex and immediately realized why this apartment had such a reasonable rent. A billboard stated "Coming soon, The Technologically Integrated Economic City Project." That along with the Genom logo let everyone know these apartments weren't long for the world.

It looked to me like a lot of low income family housing, a supposition supported by the number of kids running rampant around the place. This could be just what I was looking for, cheap, easy to rent and hopefully stable enough for me to find my feet. Finding the manager's office wasn't hard, nor was getting him to let me look at a place once he realized I was here to move in not move out.

The apartments weren't large, per se, but they had been designed with full families in mind, and so seemed far more familiar to the ordinary apartments I was familiar with than the single room box I had just come from. The landlord, Ashitaka san, was almost desperate to get me to sign. Once back in his office all he needed to hear was that I was moving into the city and looking for a temporary place to stay. Even without proof of a job, or showing him ID he was ready to do up the paperwork.

His growing anxiety was becoming almost unbearable in the small confines of the office. I could feel myself getting skittish and antsy with the need to do something almost anything to relieve him. Cutting off his next batch of assurances I told him I would need to sleep on it, but to give me the paperwork and I would let him know tomorrow if I would take it.

More than pleased he assured me he would hold the apartment open. Not that I was worried on that point given the number of darkened windows I saw on my way out. There had to be some reason for his haste and looking through the paperwork I was able to find it. A disclaimer that the land had been purchased by Genom with full redevelopment rights already secured. It took most of the rest of the trip and reading through all the legalese to find the other shoe. They could with 48 hours' notice evict any and every one living there.

I would get back any rent paid on a pro-rated basis, but the deposit would be lost, not to mention having only 48 hours to move. I was sure I could talk him down on the deposit, and the rent for a four room apartment here was less than the one room back above the pachinko parlor in Yakuza country. I didn't call him yet, but I was sold.

Just looking at the hotel stairs had me feeling tired, but a check of my systems showed I had plenty of juice remaining. This was plain old muscle fatigue from a long day's activity and made me wonder again at the perversity of designing a robot that could get tired. Taking the elevator to my room I stripped off, set the air conditioner on high and took a shower to wash the remaining grime and aroma of Megatokyo from my skin.

Snuggling deep under the covers I let my eyes fall shut and set out to pester my newest and best friend. Having exchanged contact information earlier made it a lot easier to say hi, connecting to my phone and then the hotels network let me contact her with Skype. She was logged in at work, probably against regulations but who was I to spurn a perfectly good opportunity.

Galatea: Hi Pinku Neko, how's your day been? I hit the streets and think I've found a place to stay. Any word on the job, and are you slacking off right now or should I pester you later?

Pinku Neko: Hey, good, glad to hear. Working now should be done by end of shift. Where you find?

Galatea: Well, there is this place, it's going to be part of the new Genom development so people have been moving out for a while I guess. What it means though is they are pretty desperate to get anyone in that they can. The rent is cheap, they aren't about to ask a lot of questions, and most important I can actually afford it to stay there until I start getting some money in from my new job.

Pinku Neko: Ick, Genom bad on evictions, hear stories around office. You sure?

Galatea: It's not like I have many options right now. Maybe in a month or two but it's cheap and spacious and even if Genom does bulldoze the lot it isn't as if I own more than I can carry on my back. download attachment It's only 30,000 yen a month.

I sent along a series of pictures, well images really converted to gif format from my own memory to help try and convince her I wasn't just crazy and it was a good deal. Really not having to type made even text messengers so much faster to use.

Pinku Neko: Sure, but that doesn't mean it will last that long. Probably knock the building down in your sleep!

Galatea: Now you're just exaggerating. They have to give us at least two days' notice so that won't happen. Besides even if I'm only there for two days AND I don't get any of my rent back its still less expensive than renting a room. Don't you think it's worth it from that perspective if nothing else?

Pinku Neko: Okay, but I reserve the right to say I told you so. Anyway I've gtg ttyl k?

Galatea: Night Neko.

Pinku Neko: Night.

I disconnected from my phone's Bluetooth but left the skype client running still hooked up to the hotel's wi-fi. I suppose I could have stayed connected through the night but I'm not to the point of trusting my unconscious mind not to start downloading some kind of virus while I sleep. Tomorrow would be a new day, and with luck I would get both a job and a home.


	4. Chapter 4

Frozen Butterfly Arc 2 a story of Bubblegum Crisis

Chapter 4.1 – Spinning Silk

The next morning I tried to sleep in. It took a little bit of creative thinking, a delay set to keep my processor speed down, combined with a bit of fiddling with accelerated time operating mode, in reverse. I should have enjoyed a nice, languid rise from slumber. Unfortunately, it still needs some work, instead of that enjoyable drifting rise to consciousness I still snapped from one to the other, only this time stuck in an endless seeming half hour where everything took too long to accomplish. It was not the relaxing experience I was hoping for.

But enough of that, I have mail! Nene must have been hard at work last night. I had a job! I also had a little file perfect for faking up the paperwork needed to rent my apartment. It would fall apart if they asked to see my MPI card in person, but I wasn't that worried. Given the state of the apartments he should be happy enough to take my deposit and run. It certainly didn't seem like very many people were clamoring for a family apartment that came with an unstated expiration date.

Checking the schedule Nene had given me, I had two days before starting work at the prefectural offices. So I had plenty of time to study up on my new job. Taking advantage of the free internet one last time I quickly downloaded all the manuals and information I would need to go over before checking out.

I could tell the apartment manager was relieved to see me. I'm not sure what kind of quota system he was employed under but he was almost painfully helpful in getting me settled when I let him know I would take it. He didn't just hand over the keys and run, sticking around he helped make the arrangements to hook up all the utilities, water and power available immediately and gave me his wifi password to tide me over until my own internet was hooked up in a few days.

So, settling down in my new apartment I buckled down to study, the hours passing in relative boredom while I learned about and how to be a certified clerk and recorder for the prefectural government. Despite the monotony I didn't feel like going stir crazy. Meeting Nene after work to just hang out and talk at a quiet café helped as well.

I got up bright and early for my first day of work, still having problems figuring out a way to sleep in. Arriving, nervousness gnawing at my stomach as I showed my laminated ID to the guard, I almost swooned in relief when he let me by with only a second glance. He's just watching your rear, hormones not suspicions, I told myself as I walked down the hall to the supervisors office. Thankfully past that point it was as ordinary and boring as expected.

They led me around to meet everyone. I matched names with faces and jobs, trying to get a feel for the rather dry and trying atmosphere of the office. It was both better and worse than job's I've had in the past. I felt genuinely welcomed, but with that came a level of scrutiny I wasn't fully comfortable with.

The next day was similar. Although I wasn't technically a 'new hire' I was still given an office "sempai", someone assigned to watch over and guide me through orientation. Fuji-san wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, middle aged, neat and tidy; he did his job well and helped me by pointing out little tricks to be more efficient. Punctual, neat, quiet and nice he didn't give me any trouble and, unlike the majority of the office, I never once caught his eyes wandering. Although that last bit is likely because as far as I can tell he's queer as a three dollar bill. Actually that just made working with him a bit more fun the lack of tension between us made for an easy working relationship.

Although my relationship with Fuji-sempai was casual, and ended at the office door he was really a big help. I wished that I had had someone like him around to help me out in my first job in teleconferencing years ago. His tutelage was enough, along with my reading that I actually could perform all the duties expected of me.

Over the next week, I managed to work my way quietly through the day adding bits and pieces of 'life' to my MPI file. Each lunch hour I spent filling in those niggling little details that make a MPI card legitimate. The hardest part was finding the time to discretely put myself through the biometric scan and recording tests without cluing my co-workers in to what I was about. Finally however I was finished, all the trouble and contortions of truth I had gone through well worth it.

I was real. Examining my new, official, MPI card again as I headed out to meet up with Nene, I recalled the surprise I had upon another discovery. As far as the government was concerned I was just shy of being a boomeroid in truth as well as fiction.

The 33-S had been built on an artificial endoskeleton certainly, but once they had the basic frame in place it seemed that Genom had 'cheated' with much of the rest of the design process, using artificial organs, biomimetic-musculature, and numerous other well documented medical grade prosthesis to finish off their product instead of designing synthetic alternatives from scratch.

As a result as far as the official government tests were concerned my body was almost 32% natural. It wouldn't stand up in a court of law if I were to be examined by a doctor, and that tenuous rating would fall quickly if I ever did get a properly synthetic blood supply. Still without a reason for in depth examination I was safer than ever. In fact the only remaining hurdle I saw to my continued survival was the breakdown of the very blood supply that helped maintain my designation as human.

My fluidics system continued its steady decline as my blood supply slowly failed. With an improved diet, and no longer needing to 'push' myself healing I had gotten the degradation down to less than 2% a day. Unfortunately I also had no way to get a 'fresh' blood transfusion. Although I could improve the longevity of my remaining supply with the dialysis machine it was far from a long term solution. _Fluidics at 82.3% current rate of decline will result in lack of operational levels in 30.31 days._

I could stretch that if I was careful, the internal estimate not taking into account dialysis but it was a gnawing growing concern, a question of survival for which I still didn't have an answer. A web search showed that the artificial blood supply really was as hard to get as _Master_ had indicated the day of my reactivation, both expensive and a controlled substance not available to the public.

I was distracted from those distressing thoughts by the almost cheerful beep of a car horn. Looking up my heart skipped a beat as I saw a cop car, even the cute box like affair causing me to fall into accelerated time before I recognized the driver.

Smile blooming on my face I tucked my ID away in my purse and skipped over to the curb. Nene already had the door open when I got there, having reached across the small economy sized car to do so. "Kari hurry up, you said you had cheesecake!"

I couldn't help but laugh as I quickened my steps, hopping lightly up into the passenger seat. "Wow Ne-chan, moving up in the world are we? What did you do to deserve the 'luxury' ride?" I asked in a teasing tone using my new pet name for her. One I especially liked because it played off her name, her handle and had the additional meaning of older sister.

Nene gave me a little swat on the head that I accepted with good grace. "I got stuck helping the traffic police this week. They're even more shorthanded than we are, besides I get to see your new apartment today."

"Yah yah, sure, I bet it's really just the housewarming snacks I promised that have you hurrying." I answered settling in and clicking the seatbelt into place. Leaning back I took a deep breath and relaxed. The slight sweet smell of machine oil mixed with exhaust and Nene's own distinct scent helping clear my head of another long day spent working in the dreary atmosphere of the office.

She didn't dignify my response with anything more than a laugh, checking the mirrors and pulling out into traffic. We spent the rest of the ride chatting, talking about work and in Nene's case one of her new friends, an aerobics' instructor named Linna. Despite listening carefully I wasn't quite sure how they had met, Nene's litany a mixture of complaints about the teasing she received and admiration for how good Linna looked. "Not as good as you of course Kari, but it's not fair that you both look so good." Her tone whining at the indignity of fate.

"Look Nene, it just takes some dedication, and she is an aerobics instructor… maybe you should join Linna's club. Or better yet we could go together. I know I would enjoy company for a workout, it's hard to keep up the motivation to exercise alone and if I don't I'll just turn into a marshmallow." I'll admit to an ulterior motive as it really was boring alone and if I was going to have to work out each week anyway it would be more fun to do so with a friend. Besides, Nene was a classic computer geek and too pretty to let slide into the trap of inactivity.

Despite the enthusiasm I had tried to put into my offer Nene wasn't impressed, her tone clearly conveying her feelings. "I've seen you eat, it's depressing, the last thing you need is more exercise."

"Come on Ne-Chan, just think, each time I went to the gym I could have another piece of guilt free cake, and you can't tell me that's not a good deal. You do want to help me have more cake don't you?" I'm not sure but I think it was the self-deprecating tone that earned her laugh and by the time we arrived home I had convinced her to at least register for a free trial.

The car drew a few stares and her uniform a few more from the kids playing stickball on the lawn in front of the apartments but with the lack of big guns or rampaging boomers they quickly lost interest. Upstairs after the nickel tour of my apartment we got straight on to the important thing, at least as far as Nene was concerned, cheesecake.

In all honesty I wasn't that much of a connoisseur, before or after my change in circumstances, but having seen Nene dissolve into bliss once before I knew it was going to have to become a staple of my small refrigerator. This time was no different and I let myself enjoy the flavor vicariously through her reactions. Truthfully to me it tasted rather bland, like celery only loaded with calories instead of empty of them. From the look of bliss on Nene's face she obviously felt differently.

Watching her enviously I had an inspiration. Surreptitiously visiting the kitchen to put my back to her served to disguise taking out my small bottle of lubricating oil. A few sprinkles across the top, and I joined her in honest little cries of ecstasy at the flavor. This I would have to remember… and make sure to never mix up our pieces.

Thus satiated we sat down, relaxing in the bare bones of my home. The relative size of the place, large for a single Japanese to live in made my lack of belongings even more obvious. One missing item in particular coming to my guests attention.

"Kari, where's your computer?" Nene asked, looking at me with those discerning green eyes, making me squirm under her gaze.

The question reminded me of just how bright she could be when she put her mind to things. We had met online to explore the web together several times in the last week but only now did I realize what a … glaring error I had made in not buying a computer to explain my online presence. Of course being a true computer otaku even that might not have let me avoid her notice.

"Would you believe I can get by with just my phone?" I asked proffering the device for her perusal. Knowing in my gut that friend or not she wasn't going to let me off that easily. Seeing the flat non-nonsense look on her face I let out a sigh. "It really is just through my phone… it has Bluetooth, and uh, connects through the wireless router." I gestured to the small black box situated up against the wall by the data line in one corner.

For a moment she looked angry. It was easy enough to read her thoughts as they played out across her expressive face. The seconds she thought I was trying to blow her off, the angry betrayal as I 'jerked' her chain and then just before she opened her mouth to yell, scream, say something the light seeming to spark behind her emerald-jade eyes as she guessed at the truth and they went wide.

Speaking up before she could I nodded. "That's right, I ah, have a pretty sophisticated computer in my head now, some kind of prototype. It seems to work pretty well and I don't think I'm unstable. Before you ask I don't really know any more than that. But it's how I've been able to get onto the web, both before my escape and since then. Now I go through my phone… it helps to filter out some of the background fuzziness in the net..."

I watched her nervously. What I had just admitted was going a lot further than acknowledging I was a boomeroid. Direct neural connections were the original cause of cyber psychosis. The human brain just isn't meant to handle the kind of bandwidth modern computers provide even if it is a far more efficient parallel processer than any yet invented. Research was always ongoing but no one had yet managed a stable connection.

A brief look of worry crossed her face, and I could imagine the fears rushing through her head, that I was dangerous, and unstable, and she was trapped alone in a room with me. But to my absolute surprise and relief her expression changed, to one of sympathy and support as I took a breath; my system regulating itself in the background when I had forgot to breathe on my own.

"That's terrible! And kind of cool, but it's awful that they could do something like that to you. We can't let them get away with it!" Bolting to her feet she started to pace, a small redheaded dynamo of justice and indignation. The relief I felt almost enough to steal the strength from my legs even if she did shoot the odd fascinated glance in my direction as if she looked she might see just how they had done it.

Before she could work herself up any further I inched forward and caught her hand as she passed. Her skin cool beneath my fingers but soft, her tirade cut short as I gently pulled her around to face me.

"Nene, they did get away with it, but it's alright, I'm alright, you helped get me out of there and I'm never going back. I'm Free now, and that's all that's important. What happened doesn't matter anymore." I met her dark green eyes with my light green, trying to will her understanding.

The tableau was broken before she could respond by a beeping from her watch. Tearing her eyes from mine she had a slight blush on her cheeks from the intensity of the moment. Breaking eye contact as she stepped back she bobbed her head apologetically. "I'm sorry Kari, but there's an emergency I, I have to go." Biting her lip, Nene watched me as she stepped quickly back to the entry and into her shoes.

Caught in confusion, wanting to do something, anything to alleviate her worries and confusion I stood there watching her hurry off, feeling the loss of her warmth beneath my fingertips. Questions turning over in my mind, did she have to go, were things alright between us, would she come back, were we still friends? My pulse began to ramp up in reaction to the growing need to know, to do something before she was gone, before it was too late. Something must have shown on my face because thankfully I didn't have to.

An apologetic smile crossed her face as she opened. "I'll see you tomorrow okay or give you a call after work but, I have to go." And with that she vanished out the door, the quick patter of her feet echoing down the stairs as she ran for the car. I wasn't sure if I should praise or curse whatever boomer emergency had occurred to interrupt at just that moment. Seeing her climb into the patrol car all I could do was whisper to the echoing walls of my room "Stay safe."

After our talk I didn't feel like going net diving again, at least not tonight. Sitting in the quiet of my apartment I realized just how quiet it was sitting there alone in the growing dark as the sun set. Using my phone to tune into the local radio I kept scanning until news of a boomer rampage came on the air. It was a combat model, the exact specifications unimportant, only the casualties it was causing and the ADP response sank in. For the first time when I heard about the Knight Sabers showing up I was filled with relief. Sure they might kill me just for living, but because of them some more of the AD Police would live to see tomorrow.

Instead of their being out there to kill boomers I realized they were also out there protecting people, and my best friend, only friend in the world might be one of them. Still it wasn't until I got an IM in response to a dozen worried messages half an hour later letting me know Nene was fine that I crawled into bed and collapsed for the evening my 'sleep' troubled by simulations of just how helpless either of us would be if ever caught in the middle of a firefight.

The next day I brought it up when we met before going to the gym. "Nene, thank god your safe. After you left last night all I could think about was that you might be in danger!"

I couldn't believe just how… unconcerned she was in her answer, even laughing a little. "Kari-chan, I'm an analyst, it's not like I go out and fight." Tweaking my nose she spun around and was halfway to the car and already changing the subject to a new store she heard was opening in Shinjuku.

It was a relief to realize all my worries were baseless and I gladly put my concerns behind me as I realized just what a fast one she was trying to pull. "Ne-chan, we're not going to spend the day shopping. You said you would come with me to aerobics. We even sent in our applications together, you're not getting out of it that easily."

"Oh come on, you know you could do with some more cloths, you look gorgeous, there's no reason you need to go to the gym, and it would be fun." Turning she tried the puppy dog eyes on me but I shook my head but couldn't suppress the grin.

"No deal Nene, you already promised we would go together, I'm not going to let you back out now."

Pouting she tried for most of the journey to get me to change my mind. One bargaining session later and we both felt like we had gotten the worse end of the deal we reached. She finally and with great reluctance agreed to go through with her promise of attending aerobics class with me, but in exchange somehow had gotten me to agree to go with her to a club called Hot Legs.

Still that was a worry for later. First we had class. Nene continued to drag her feet, all the way to the front desk. Waiting for her was a tall, slim, athletically toned woman with coal black hair held back by a green sweatband. But that wasn't what really caught my attention. Nor was it the grey tights and green leotard combination she wore, that at least went with the headband and didn't clash. The shocking thing was the leg warmers. Honest to god 80's style leg warmers.

I was actually distracted enough for the first few seconds of conversation to pass before my name drew me into the conversation between the friends as Nene went on. "-Kari, Kari this is Linna, she's the friend I've told you about." And then pulling a face mock whispered. "The bully whose fault it is we're here."

That drew a laugh from both of us and broke the slightly nervous tension in the air. Offering Linna a polite bow I spoke up. "It's nice to meet you Linna sensei. I hope that my joining Nene for your class doesn't cause any problems."

She shook her head and smiling began to lead the way back to the changing rooms. "Not at all there's still room and I can comp you a class or two. You did get Nene to come in after all and that kind of effort deserves a reward." I tried not to smile, too much, but the look of betrayal on Nene's face was too good to resist.

"You two go on, I'll catch up, I just need to get something to wear…" I waved them on as we passed through the apparel section of the front. It was obviously outfitted for those on the go but I was grateful there would be something for me to wear, even at the inflated prices. Somehow I hadn't though a leotard was necessary to my wardrobe yet.

To my surprise Linna waved Nene on as well, and watched me quietly a moment as I picked through the displays trying to find something I wouldn't be too embarrassed to wear in public. After a moment spent watching she picked out an almost terrifyingly neon orange bodysuit that went from elbows to thigh and a royal blue sleeveless leotard to go over it. I winced at the clashing colors but… when in Rome, I accepted it without protest but drew the line at matching leg warmers.

Ringing up the sale I could see a more serious subject coming up even before she spoke. There was something in the depths of Linna's blue eyes that gave it away. "I saw on your application that you have some cyberware?" At my slight nod I could feel those eyes roaming over my figure searching for any obvious signs. "It's really very good, but I need to know if you have any limitations for movement or activity before class."

"No, nothing like that." I bit my lip and worried it between my teeth before taking a breath to give her a more complete answer, "When I was hurt, they had to replace a lot, but I was lucky and got TrueNature reconstruction." It wasn't, quite, the most expensive brand out there but matched the official scan data close enough not to raise eyebrows if I had to 'prove it'.

That brought the smile back to her face and a nod. "I've had a few patients with TruNature go through physical therapy in my class before. How long has it been? You move very well." I hesitated a moment, and she quickly stepped back with a deep bow. "Please excuse me, I shouldn't have asked. I'll let you get dressed."

Our conversation, short as it was put me behind the rest of the class. Most were already done changing as I got to the lockers, even Nene just finished pulling on predictably eye searing pink leg warmers over purple tights and an equally pink leotard. Cute as a button but oh the horror!

I exchanged polite introductions with the only other woman still changing, her name was Irene and talking with her about her fiancé helped keep me from thinking too hard about changing in front of them or the fact I was surrounded by rather scantily clad women.

My focus lasted all of five minutes. Once in the class itself I couldn't quite help looking. It felt strange, hiding in the back with Nene to my right and Irene to my left as I snuck guilty feeling looks at our instructor for direction. It took almost fifteen minutes before I could reconcile the fact that it was alright for me to be here working out, of being one of these attractive women rather than an interloper on their domain.

Finally glancing at Nene and Irene I realized that to be honest they weren't in the best of shape which is not to say that they were unattractive just not in the best shape. Nene particularly was already starting to breathe hard. Linna however leading the class was a machine. Not literally, as far as I could tell, but she was easily working twice as hard as anyone else and ending up half as tired.

A fact that was brutally and depressingly underscored when three quarters of a way though the hour I started getting fluidic oxygen supply and energy transmission warnings. My body is state of the art, cutting edge in design and function, and I couldn't even keep up the pace. My movements becoming a bit choppy as my lungs worked like bellows.

I had been keeping up with Nene and the rest of the class to that point but when my energy started to flag it went fast. I was relieved when we switched from high impact to low for the next five minutes, black spots crossing my vision for a minute or two as my oxygen starved blood supply tried to meet the strain being placed upon it.

At one point during the cool down stretches I looked up and Linna caught my eyes before offing a small smile. I hardly knew her yet somehow she hadn't just realized I was flagging but near collapse. Not only that but she almost seamlessly adjusted the pace of her class to compensate. I returned her smile giving her the okay sign with one hand. She really is an impressive instructor.

As the class ended she called my name, holding me back a moment. "Nene, Irene, please go ahead, I'll follow in just a minute." To be honest I was a little relieved at the excuse to delay following them in. While I had every right to do so, I wasn't sure about my own motivations, not to mention the amount of pheromones in the air. Most of the class would probably just wrinkle their nose at the sweat and hurry to the showers. For me however it would be like breathing Louisiana air after living at the top of the Rockies. Less breathing and more drinking in the complex scents around me and like on the subway in such a thick jumbled mess I wouldn't be able to stop my reaction.

So it was slowly recovering and slightly swaying that I approached Linna to see what she had to say, just hoping she wouldn't notice anything else. "Hey Kari-san, good first workout, are you feeling alright, can I get you something to drink or some juice?" She took my hand and led me gently over to a vending machine, punching in some kind of code.

"I'm sorry I didn't realize sooner but you're looking a little pale. You need to pace yourself a bit better…" I could feel her watching me closely for physical symptoms as she went on. "It can be tricky to realize you're pushing too hard for people in your condition, but that just means you need to be extra vigilant. Dehydration and Hypoglycemia are often worse in those with implants so you're more susceptible to them. I'm not saying you should stop, just; make sure to drink lots of water, or juice before a workout okay? You're a new friend and I'd like to keep you."

A supportive hug and she was leading me back to the lockers, now with juice in hand. I was surprised at how accurately she had diagnosed the problem. Even without the facts, she realized that because my blood supply was breaking down I was effectively diabetic. I promised to be good and look after myself better before we split apart to shower. I spent extra-long in the shower, relaxing and recovering; besides I felt enough like a peeping tom already.

Freshly showered, scrubbed, dried and dressed I stepped out of the locker room to see Nene waiting with Linna and Irene for me. The extra time in the shower had given my compromised blood supply a chance to finish refreshing me, and I felt almost as good as new walking out to meet them.

"Now I suppose that I'm going to have to pay up and actually come clubbing aren't I?" my tone wry as I looked at the other three, only well ingrained instincts or was it programing, keeping my posture natural and the nervous worry over the incipient crowds from projecting to the others.

"Yup!" Nene chirped in response, her glee at finally getting me to come out with her showing in the wide smile crossing her lips. "To Hot Legs!"

If anything the name of the club made it worse somehow, like I would just be on display if I went inside. I had never enjoyed clubbing before and couldn't imagine that would change as easily as my gender. Still I couldn't really back out now. I had promised and maybe it wouldn't be too bad, I could hope.

Dressed in the rather conservative skirt and long sleeved blouse I wore to work I didn't cut the most impressive figure. Add flats to my already towering stature and I hoped that in a dark room I might manage to be overlooked; unfortunately my experience walking the streets of MegaTokyo put a sinking feeling into my heart. Genom made its products a little too well and I was sure that tonight would just be another example.

When we arrived it was both much worse and better than I had expected. Better because some of the music was good, in a retro 80's kind of way, bad in that already it was much too crowded for my peace of mind. Unfortunately I saw my companions eyes light up and toes start to tap even as we shouldered our way in the front door. The deep sound reverberating through our bones and movement of the crowd inside seemed to electrify them.

As we made our way deeper live music began to play, a warm-up band Nene shouted in my ear, one hand keeping hold of me as she dragged me out onto the dance floor. The deep pulsing beats echoed through my slight frame and lights flashed in the darkness making it an almost out of body experience.

That disassociation with my body only heightened as the pheromones of the crowd began to hit me. It felt like I was high, floating on a wave of sensation, my body swaying without conscious thought to the beat. I barely had the presence of mind to stick near my friends as men started to move in, like moths to a flame.

Only in this case I was the one to be burned if they achieved their goal. I had to fight the urge to respond, their needs and desires so obvious so clear, pulling at my subconscious to react appropriately. Only with monumental effort was I able to pull my eyes away from them, focusing instead on Nene, giving her my full devotion.

She was having a blast. Unlike me, she had changed for the occasion, with a cute strappy little white top and blue skirt. It wasn't quite so blatantly "look at me!" as Linna in her figure hugging sheath but less conservative than Irene, who like me had been talking into coming on the spur of the moment in her office blouse and skirt.

My change in priority worked to an extent; Nene was my rock in the storm that was the rest of the club. As the song ended I could feel my pulse dancing beneath my skin and grabbed her hand feeling from the floor, abandoning Linna and Irene to the sharks. Only once we had escaped the lingering gazes, safely in a dark corner near the bar, with a cool breeze from the air conditioning blowing fresh, un-hormone laden air across my face did I stop.

"Ne-Chan, I need a break, I'm sorry." I my heart still racing, blood pumping madly in my veins. The tingle of need running across my skin brought on by the crowd and only inflamed by the touch of Nene's soft skin, only now starting to subside as the scent of sex and desire slowly cleared from my system.

I must have looked as flushed and as unsteady as I felt because I saw her expression shift from petulant annoyance at having been dragged off change to concern in a flash. "Are you alright?" Hovering by my side like a hummingbird her hands brushed along my arms her bright green eyes scanning me as though she could see what was wrong with a simple glance.

Leaning back against the wall, I felt blessedly cool air brush across my face and let out another deep breath. "Yes, I mean, I will be just, please give me a moment." Thoughts scrambling for an excuse, "I'm just a little anemic- too much exercise in one day, but I'll be fine go on have some fun." I said trying to shoo her back into the mosh pit of a dance floor. Now calmer my mind starting to clear I wasn't even sure why I had dragged her with me in the first place.

But Nene's loyalty wasn't so easily deterred and she stayed with me sequestered in the shadows of our little hideaway for the next few songs. For me, it was rest from the mental strain and for Nene just resting. I laughed a little as Linna continued to dance with Irene shooting down yet another young punk trying to pick her up out on the dance floor. She was amazing, and I felt a small kernel of jealousy at just how comfortable she looked.

Those two were a dynamo, stopping by our quiet little corner once or twice to catch their breath, grab a swallow or two of water and tease us mercilessly about being the wallflowers we are. As the evening progressed I realized each of us had our own reasons for being here. Irene enjoyed dancing and even singing along with the band.

Linna however was definitely on the prowl. Even with Nene at my side I couldn't help feeling attracted to her, even across the length of the club. It was in the way she danced, how she moved, she was looking but didn't find it tonight; turning down one after another of the handsome young men who approached her.

Nene was here for us. I don't think she was really looking for a partner at all, and when out on the dance floor tended to stick with Linna, Irene, or me, rather than dance with a stranger no matter how cute.

During the next break from the mosh pit/ dance floor Nene and I giggled as Linna finally seemed to find someone to her liking, an expensively dressed young man who had no sense of rhythm. Unfortunately when they left the dance floor heading to the bar what had seemed promising broke up in a flurry of gestures and angry words. Storming over and almost throwing herself down into a chair with us Linna began trolling for pity. "Can you believe that man, BOY, he wanted me to buy the drinks, what a cheapskate. I bet he's still living at home with his mother, VP of finance my ass…"

"Well, you know what they say, handsome, rich, or nice, pick two, one if you're bothered by a married man." My comment got a surprised laugh from Nene and a good natured grumbling smile out of Linna perking her up a little.

"Yes, well he was clumsy enough I thought maybe that earned bonus points." Linna shot back. Trying but failing to hide a slowly growing smile.

"Hmm, if that's the case you should try for gay guys, I hear that they can dance, and are nice. Plus, since Japan is still behind the rest of the world on gay marriage you know they're all single…" That did it, Linna's bad mood breaking with a hoot of laughter as she shot back, "Maybe I should." Though unable to keep a straight face.

Together they got me onto the floor a few more times, once when the main band, Priss and the Replicants cam on- an ironic name considering my situation if ever I heard one, and again for the final song of the night.

Crowded into Linna's little subcompact on the ride home all four of us were satisfactorily bushed and I had to admit to myself that despite the lingering buzz from the crowd I did want to do this again. Waving farewell as they dropped me off at my apartment I stumbled up the stairs and into my futon. Mentally and physically exhausted from the trials of the day it took only moments before I fell asleep grateful for the chance to recover from the day's exertions.


	5. Chapter 5

Frozen Butterfly 2 a story of Bubblegum Crisis

Chapter 5.1 – Tsunami Time

When I woke up it was as always with startling rapidity. For one shining moment I was almost there, in that blissful place with the sun just shining through my eyelids, mind on, body off, before it was once again stolen away by full awareness.

I lay there, eyes closed and breathing in deeply. I could still smell the lingering odor of the club, just tickling my senses. I didn't want to get up, my bed was warm and if I tried hard I could just barely make out Ne-chan's distinct scent on my skin- almost like spearmint the sensation a teasing echo of the real thing.

Finally though I didn't feel like laying in bed off any longer, getting up I stumbled my way into the shower. A brief rinse and check of my status later, _Fluidics at 79.4% Ocular systems 81.2%, _nothing I didn't expect, and I was getting dressed for my second full day off of work, and the first one I would have entirely to myself.

Feeling a bit down I went to my mini-fridge and cracked open a bottle of Fiji water. Curiously of all the designer brands I had tried it was the old familiar one from my last life that was good for my systems and tasted the best.

The next step in my increasingly depressing weekly routine was some quality time with my dialysis machine. No matter how hard I tried I hadn't been able to find a legal way to purchase fresh blood, or plasma, on the open market. The best I could do was sterile saline solution.

Hooking myself up, thankfully through maintenance outlets in my wrists rather than having to rely upon the needles _master_ had supplied for subterfuge's sake I gave a little shiver as the chill solution began to mix with the poor tired blood in my fluidics systems. A half hour later and another small brackish bag of expired cells went down the drain.

It made me tired just to watch it go. I needed to do something soon, before I stood helplessly by watching the last of my life swirl into the disposal, irrecoverable. Lighter on my feet now I hauled away the dialysis machine tucking it into the back of the closet. Flopping onto my back I rested a moment staring up at my scant clothing trying to decide what to wear.

Settling on a new pair of jeans, I had to make them comfortable somehow, and a light yellow t-shirt I stood up with a huff of breath and dressed. Halfway to the door, destination still undecided my phone rang.

Glancing at the display I brushed a lock of blond hair back behind my ear as I answered with a smile in my voice and on my lips. "Hey Ne-chan, I wasn't expecting to hear from you today, what's up?"

"Well, um, I need a favor…" her voice sounded unusually subdued on the other end of the line.

"Of course, you need only ask." I paused leaning against the door so that my phone could continue to use the apartment's wireless rather than switching over to the very expensive minute by minute plan I was on.

Sounding a little more confident but strangely furtive Nene spoke quickly voice soft, "Meet me at the Starbucks across from ADP headquarters at ten, it's important." With that the phone went quiet and I had to actually check to be sure she had actually hung up on me.

That was certainly new behavior, both because she preferred text to calling, and certainly hadn't ever been quite so cloak and dagger before, I wondered what she wanted. Glancing towards the cupboard beneath the kitchen sink where my illegal firearms were hidden I pondered getting one for just a moment before shaking my head no.

I was just letting my imagination get away from me; she probably just wanted to get away from work or the baleful eyes of her boss or something. Dismissing the concerns from my mind I pulled on my windbreaker, tucked a collapsible umbrella into my pocket and locked the door behind me.

Getting off the subway at the ADP station still sent a nervous thrill up my spine. Hearing sirens in the distance I checked my pocket for my MPI card stroking the hard plastic for reassurance as I rode the escalator to the surface. It gave me a little thrill to wave as a low slung predatory looking police cruiser went past before crossing the street in its wake.

Pushing my way into the Starbucks I looked for the familiar mane of red as I winded my way deeper. Seeing a hand wave from a booth near the back I smiled and quickened my pace, my good cheer falling and stomach starting to drop a little as I slipped into the booth across from her catching sight of her expression.

As I look I could tell something was wrong, _subject behavior indicative of nervousness 89%. _Where was the smile, the cheerful greeting, the plate covered with crumbs from the cake she loved to buy? Mood seeming to grow heavier by the moment I tried a cheerful greeting, "Hey Ne-chan, what brings a cute girl like you to a shady bar like this?" but even to my own ears it felt a little flat and certainly didn't induce the exasperated smile I was hoping for

"Kari," Nene took a moment to center her thoughts rather than snip at me. "I need your help." Before I could say anything she hurried on. "You can't tell anyone else I'm asking or what you find out either." Nibbling on her lip she looked up, "You have to promise it will be a secret."

Caught off guard, unused to seeing the weight of the world in those emerald green eyes I nodded. "Of course Nene," my voice dropping I leaned over and took her hand. "You can trust me, I owe you more than I could ever say, I'll help you, no questions asked."

She relaxed a little letting out a pent up breath. "Thanks' Kari, you're a life saver." Reaching into her jacket she pulled out a pair of photos. "Here, there's been a kidnapping and I need some help running down leads on the net."

I almost missed everything she said after those came out. My eyes widening as I took in the pictures. One was of an auburn haired man with an ugly green suit, but he wasn't the one that made my heart want to stop. That was the picture of a four year old girl, _image 99.9% match for file footage of USSD command and control interface codename Cynthia._

Looking up and taking in my suddenly pale face Nene's words tumbled to a halt and she waved her fingers slightly before my eyes. "Kari, hey Kari, I thought you would be okay with a little net research," Her tone gentle as if afraid to startle me growing more nervous and uncertain as she finished.

"Nene, do you know who this girl is?" I asked my voice a harsh whisper hand slamming down onto the picture between us and twisting it to face her with more force than sense. My gaze snapping up to capture hers, only the sight of her nervous swallow enough to make me realize how alarming my behavior as she shook her head in answer to my question.

Looking around to ensure we weren't being watched I went on. "How did you get mixed up in this, no never mind," running back over what she had said before I fixated on the picture told me enough, "this isn't a simple kidnapping case Nene. This girl… she's a boomer, codenamed Cynthia." Licking my lips nervously I went on even more quietly. "She's a secret USSD project for controlling the laser satellites. I saw it in Flint's files before I escaped. Whatever the AD Police looking for her were told it's a lie. You need to be really careful."

As I watched Nene's face went through a series of changes, the first of surprise, eyes widening as what I said sunk in, but she snapped back much quicker than I expected. Eyes narrowing thoughtfully and nodding a little with what I said as she processed the new information. "It makes more sense now, why, never mind. Kari, that, this information means it's even more important that we find her. Will you help?"

There was a certain determination in her tone, posture almost trembling with conviction as Nene drew herself up to her full sitting height looking down into my eyes. In the face of that all I could do was nod. "Thank you Kari, this means a lot."

Splitting up a few minutes later, Nene hurried back across the street to AD police headquarters leaving me alone to sit and contemplate the job she had given me. It wouldn't be easy, in fact it would be nearly impossible to check all web accessible camera's in MegaTokyo for a single man or boomer masquerading as a little girl. No wonder she needed the help. So much for my day off…

I spent the rest of the day diving through the net and the strain was beginning to show. For the first time since my awakening I had a headache, and as I forced myself to continue searching the internet it was only growing worse. Though Nene and I had been careful splitting the areas we would each search and she had given me a fancy bit of code that helped eliminate any clips without human motion it was still an imposingly large task. I felt like a butterfly flying twelve miles an hour into a twenty mile wind. No matter my progress every minute left me further from the goal.

That's when it happened. I didn't consciously recognize the tremble as the shockwave rolled over the city. The results however were immediate and tripped just about every warning feeler I had out. Already hooked into countless video streams I had a ringside view in moments.

The laser satellites hanging over our heads, forgotten in the vastness of space had fired on MegaTokyo.

I spent a few moments lost watching the devastation. It was incredible how clearly I could see everything. I was used to war footage showing explosions that were smaller in real life than Hollywood, full of dust and grit, the same old film footage of atomic weapons tests.

A laser strike from orbit is different. The destruction is still there, but everything is lit up as bright as day, dust and debris in the target zone itself burning to ash, and less than ash in that super-heated beam. Only as secondary effects began was the view of destruction obscured, dust beginning to rise around what I belatedly recognized as the aqua city area construction project. Thinking it was over I started to contact Nene when over a dozen additional strikes, all centered on the man-made island struck home.

By the time the dust, grit, and water turned instantly to steam had settled enough for the camera I was watching through to get a clear view there was nothing left but a swirling maelstrom as water rushed in frenzied currents around the sinking skeletal frame of the once impressive technical marvel.

I watched as AD Police rapid response teams, regular police, ambulances and fire departments responded to the destruction pulling up onto the pier overlooking the sinking remains. My body taking a deep breath and giving myself a few moments to compartmentalize the tragedy I began pulling footage of the strike, and the area in and around aqua city as quickly as I could, dumping it all straight onto the private server Nene had established in case I found something.

Somewhere out there was a person with access to a killer doll, and they had just shown they had no compunctions about using it. Aqua City might have been an abandoned industrial experiment, but who knows where they would choose to hit next. I could only hope that somewhere in the footage I was pulling the police would find a clue.

By the time Nene got back to me – I didn't begrudge her the delay, after that incident the fact she had time at all was a miracle – it was late enough to be considered early again.

Pinku Neko: Sorry I'm late, ty for the help, really.

I snapped myself back to full attention out of the quasi fugue state I had fallen into, parts of my scattered consciousness focused on tracking down more footage of that evening, while other parts watched the clips I had secured.

Galatea: It's alright Neko, I understand really I do. I'm just sorry I wasn't able to find her for you before this happened, but, there's something you need to know. The Knight Sabers were there.

Pinku Neko: What?

Pinku Neko: Are you sure?

I wasn't surprised at her shock. It had been a rude awakening when I discovered it myself.

Galatea: Yes, I managed to track down some good footage before the incident and a camera caught them crossing the bridge to Aqua city. I have several shots showing some kind of battle taking place as well, but they have a really good hacker working for them, or more than one.

There was a pause, one heartbeat or two as she digested my latest message before I saw her response.

Pinku Neko: Are you sure, what happened?

Galatea: There should have been more footage of the incident. As near as I can tell they started erasing information before the satellite even struck. Somehow they jammed the camera's in Aqua City, and corrupted the stoplight cameras for at least five kilometers around the incident.

Pinku Neko: What?

Galatea: That's not it. They've also been cleaning up I mean deleting records made beforehand and anything else connected to the net. The only reason I got some of the footage I did is because I just happened to get there first. I rechecked a few servers and the original data is gone, like it never existed, and Neko, I think they might work for Genom.

Pinku Neko: WHAT!1111111

I had to giggle a little at the exclamation marks. Sure Nene was excitable but I could just imagine the look on her face as she read my last message. No one thought that they worked for Genom. The main thing that they seemed to do was kill boomers after all but to me there was a certain sense to having a group around to eliminate any rogue product with full deniability. Nodding to myself I tried to infuse my words with the seriousness I couldn't put into my tone.

Galatea: Yes, I managed to backtrack one of the virus' to the secure Genom net. Either they're good enough to use Genom's resources without getting caught, or they really are working from within Genom.

I waited anxiously for a long minute. The kind that would have seemed endless before, but thanks to an internal chronometer I knew was just the same length as each one before it and every one that would follow.

Pinku Neko: I want you to get offline

Pinku Neko: Now

Pinku Neko: It's not safe and you've done enough.

When our connection shut down a moment later I knew that she was serious, not even willing to give me a chance to argue. Accepting her judgment as my own I carefully disconnected and lay back on my futon, finally letting myself fall asleep.

That morning I woke slowly for the first time. 'Awake' I lay there under my covers imagining myself riding a horse sized Pekinese wearing a white ballroom gown slit high up the front so that glittering tights fit for a production of Snow White on Ice could be seen. Somehow I even knew it was the very height of fashion as I fired a repeating carbine at a horde of green frogs trying to overrun our lines.

Trying to hold the line as coherency slipped further away from my addled mind I realized with a jolt I was dreaming. And that was the end of that. The light blue of my blanket taking over for the odd hazy sky and the sounds of traffic for the baying of war hounds. I was wrong, apparently I could dream, all it took was the efficiency of my systems to drop to dangerous levels. _Fluidics at 78.1%, warning decreased capacity detected, increasing flow rate to maintain operations._

Going through my morning routine of shower, salad and tall glass of purified water I tried to get used to my faster heart rate, it was up from 75 to 100 beats a minute and I was starting to feel a bit like a humming bird. On the other hand it did help, I certainly felt better than I had the last few days, and I just hoped I wouldn't expire from over use or something.

At work I started to experiment with manual control over my heart rate. I could drop it down to around 88 beats a minute if I was resting before my mind started to wander off. I wonder if that's normal for people, I used to lose focus at work fairly regularly so keeping it at 89 just to be safe I soldiered on through the day.

Afterwards I hurried to Starbucks to meet up with Nene. Giving her my best smile I had our drinks ready and waiting when she arrived. Leaning out of the booth I waved her down, "Hey Ne-Chan, over here." Voice cheerful as ever but she must have noticed the seriousness in my eyes.

"Hi Ka-chan," her tone was uncharacteristically subdued. "Thank you for your help." Bowing deep forehead to the table my old western sensibilities kicked in and I reached over to lift her back up. "Nene, it was nothing, really," slight pink spots rising to my cheeks as I looked around, "Your drawing attention." Well maybe not only my western sensibilities at work.

That at least got her to sit up and gave me a chance to push her mint chocolate cappuccino double Frappuccino, latte, whaptaccino over to her. It was an incredibly sugary caffeinated thing that I had no doubt would give me an instant heart attack if I tried even a sip. Dropping my voice so it wouldn't carry I asked, "So just what happened yesterday, is Cynthia still out there?" I almost added, 'in the hands of terrorists', but given we were in a public place common sense held me back.

She shook her head and proffered her phone angled so that I would be the only one to see before pressing play. There in full 2.5"x1.5" glory I saw one of the video clips I had pulled for her last night. It was just after the first satellite strike, lit orange from the fires below it looked almost like the island's towers were shifting, growing for lack of a better word.

"This is the raw take, before enhancement." Her tone was serious and I looked up meeting her emerald eyes and a chill went down my spine when she went on her voice dropping even lower. "You're not going to hear this on the news but those satellite strikes probably saved the city."

She pressed a button and the image zoomed in to show that the island was liberally swarming with tendrils of metal. They twisted and curled around each other consuming the metal island and reaching outward to consume everything in their path. "Nanites?" I asked softly.

"Yes, from some kind of fusion boomer. Whatever it was it looks like the central processing unit lost control after a general order to reproduce." She shook her head, "But that's not all." A few moments of deft manipulation and the screen now showed the grainy image of a little girl, curly blond hair blowing in the wind and pseudopods from the island piercing her legs. I thought I saw an expression of panic cross her face just before the image was washed out by the second satellite strike.

Playing it back again I watched with fascinated horror, could that happen to me, could something just, latch on and start to take me over?

Nene's voice was soft not catching the real cause of my horror, "I feel sorry for Cynthia, I know she's just a boomer, but, in the end she was alone, and scared, the satellites were the only thing she had left, I guess."

I slowly nodded. "It must have been awful, alone with the rest of the world out to get you."

Nene looked up catching my morose mood. "Your right, but, I just wanted to thank you, and let you know what happened. It's over. Cynthia's been destroyed, I'm fine and you don't need to worry about it anymore." She waited a moment longer to see if I had anything more to say but I was still too caught up in my own private fears.

"I've got to get back to work." Nene said, her tone was full of unspoken apology, but I nodded gesturing her to go on.

"I'll be fine, thanks for letting me know." Getting up she stepped out of the booth, I could almost feel the dark shroud the depressing conversation had left over us. Trying to perk both our spirts up I grasped at straws. "Don't forget tomorrow is aerobics with Linna and Irene." Seeing her slightly dismayed expression at the reminder actually perked me up slightly.

Feeling better I went on "Don't think you can get out of it, I've seen your schedule and know you're off Ne-chan," my tone growing teasing as she glowered back at me.

"Hey, that isn't public…" her objection stalling mid complaint replaced a moment later by a little chagrined look. "I guess this is the reward I get for having a hacker for a friend…" Still as she turned and headed back out the doors there was a little bit of spring to her step. My teasing having helped improve her mood a little, and in the process lifted mine as well.

A friend, I wasn't as alone as Cynthia, and unlike her the world wasn't out to get me. Rising from my seat I left heading back home.


	6. Chapter 6

Frozen Butterfly 2 a story of Bubblegum Crisis

Chapter 6.1 – Tsunami Season

They'd found me. I don't know how Mason knew but he had laced my room with nanites. They infested my apartment, long strands of them waving like cilia in the ocean, dipping and swaying their thousands of fronds piercing my flesh and sucking me dry until with a sky darkening laugh Mason stepped into the warehouse, the brush of his foot ringing hollowly against my metallic skin pressing down inexorably upon my chest until I shattered like an egg. Unable to move, to breathe to think, I bolted upright the light of a new day shining through the window and into my eyes. A nightmare… I lay back, taking long slow breaths as my heart rate increased bringing with it full awareness and the return of rationality.

Somehow along the line I forget that dreams went two ways. It seemed like such a win-win solution, intentionally reducing my heart rate during rest so I could dream and wake slowly to the light while at the same time reducing the strain on my systems and conserve my blood supply. Checking quickly, _fluidics at 77.5% _I sighed. Nightmares or not I would have to keep my sleeping pulse rate low if I wanted to survive, the bad dreams just another price I would have to pay.

My morning routine seemed to drag onward. Maybe I could call in sick, claim to have the flu… it was certainly starting to feel that way. Unfortunately I didn't have any sick time saved up. Dam it, I was a transfer employee, couldn't Nene have at least been nice enough to give me some accrued sick leave?

I wasn't hungry, or at least wasn't in the mood to eat. Skipping breakfast ironically made me feel more a part of humanity than I had in a week as I joined the rest of humanities drones on my way in to work. The crush of the subway didn't bother me as it usually did. The concentrated pheromone's of its passengers a muted presence and my autonomous responses seemed almost as detached. If nothing else had been a concern that raised a big red flag. I really was running down, dying.

I spent the morning intentionally cheerful, the last thing I wanted being to draw my co-workers attention and treated myself to a whole grapefruit at lunch. I still didn't feel like eating but the alerts and warnings were starting to get to me. Adding an extra two drops of sweet oil as desert helped. Cranking my metabolism up another three beats a minute on my way to the gym helped even more and had me feeling almost normal as I met Nene at the door.

With a smile I touched her hand briefly, giving it a squeeze in welcome, no words needed to be said as we headed inside. I'm not sure if it was due to my good planning or Nene's habitual reticence towards exercise but we were among the last to arrive. This time it was easier to change amidst the others. Perhaps I've managed to absorb some of the Japanese ability to be alone in a crowd.

Detouring on my way into class I pulled Linna aside. "I'm not feeling the best, a little under the weather so I might not be able to keep up…" my posture subliminally shaped to play upon her conscience, implying a slightly more serious issue but not TOO serious. I loved my instincts, my preprogramed responses and skills, every now and then, they really do make interpersonal relationships easier.

It's a good thing I can too, as no matter how poorly I felt I still looked like a thousand bucks, or more reasonably the roughly sixty million yen of my original price tag. Damn inflation.

She gave a slight frown but nodded, "Alright, try to keep up but if you can't don't push yourself. You should get a checkup; if your prostheses aren't balanced right it could cause problems." I could see she wanted to say more, or perhaps lecture me a bit but the rest of class had finished arriving in the brief time we talked. With a polite little bobbing kowtow I retreated to my spot at the back of the class.

As I took my place between Nene and Irene I realized I wasn't the only one having a rough day. While Nene was as chipper and perky as ever Irene looked awful. There were dark circles beneath her eyes and a depressed pall hung over every motion, but before I could ask class started and she threw herself into it with abandon.

I paced myself, keeping a sharp eye on my energy use to production ratios, honestly concerned about my ability to maintain more strenuous activity. Once I was sure I could keep up with the class without deleterious effect I sped up, much to Nene's chagrin as she had been matching my pace rather keeping up with Linna and I could feel her accusing gaze on me complaining about the loss of her excuse to slack off. I of course just gave her a cheerful smile in response.

On the other side however Irene was like a dervish, throwing herself into every exercise and pushing hard enough to make up for both Nene and my slack pace. As class ended at least six eyes were watching Irene with concern but she just shook off my light touch hurrying into the locker room when I asked "Are you alright?" Leaving behind a concerned if sweaty and tired duo and Linna who was still almost sickeningly fresh.

Newly showered and dried I leaned against the lockers waiting for Nene to finish getting dressed, the cool metal of the locker against my back was a relaxing sensation, and one I concentrated on keeping my eyes closed, and hoping Nene mistook the reason for that as relaxation not bashfulness. The strangers around me were no problem, but catching sight of Nene coming out of the shower had made me seriously doubt that I had made any progress earlier that day in acclimating to my new situation.

"Say Ne-chan, oh goddess, gift to mankind, and computer guru…" not a very unique attempt to butter someone up but then I wasn't trying to be subtle. "I ah, think I could use your help again." Feeling the glower she shot me I peeked my eyes open grinning a little to see the mock sternness of her gaze, my introduction as obvious to her as myself, oh and her pink bra. Quickly shutting my eyes again I went on. "You know how my apartment is so nice, and big, and… temporary? Well I think Genom is getting ready to plow us under. I know they have to give two days' notice but I noticed a construction trailer at the end of the street today so it's just a matter of time."

Nene's answer was hesitant _indications subject anxious about topic 87% _"Um, I'm sorry I would put you up, really but, I just can't." Her eyes and face were downcast as I opened mine once more a bit surprised by her assumption, and a little concerned why she couldn't have a roommate. Her denial seemed far more absolute than I expected and somehow out of character for her.

Feeling slightly hurt I hurried to assure her that my favor wasn't anything of the kind. "Oh, that isn't really what I meant at all." I was relieved to see her relax, the ribbon her fingers had been unintentionally knotting released to hang smooth again. "I just wanted to ask you to help me apartment hunt for a new place, and maybe be a character reference. I mean, having one of the all-powerful AD police vouch for my integrity has to count for something right?"

Letting out a relieved laugh the tension draining from her completely I wondered just why she would have been so apprehensive about living with me. Nene opened her mouth to answer when we overheard a soft sob from the showers.

Exchanging worried glances we rose as one and moved to investigate. We were just about the last to finish changing; me because of my own efforts to keep to myself and Nene because of her slavish hedonistic devotion to worship the endless supply of hot water in the showers. Even so when we reached the showers we found one still in use.

Irene stood in the end stall slumped against the wall as her shoulders heaved and silent tears dripped down her cheeks. Her skin was pale and pruned from standing under the shower and I had to gently coax her out of the stall. Nene grabbed a towel as I drew Irene into a gentle hug heedless of the water soaking into my clothing.

A few moments and feet later I drew her down onto one of the benches, my grip only loosening to allow Nene to tuck her into the folds of a fluffy towel. "Irene, hey, are you okay?" I admit not the most original thing to say but I wasn't really sure what to do in this situation, and for once my inner voice wasn't pelting me with suggestions of how to use sex to solve it.

She was quiet for a few moments, just huddled against me as she took slowly deepening breaths, pulling herself together as Nene stood on her other side shooting me a concerned glance full of questions to which I had no answer.

Finally Irene spoke. "Kenshiro's dead," her voice a soft, pain filled whimper. It only took a moment before I placed the name, her fiancé. Giving her another slight squeeze of support it was as if a dam that had been holding back her words burst and she began to speak with a nervous, sobbing furious intensity.

"They killed him. They say it was an accident, an 'unfortunate accident' but I know better. He told me that they had moved him to a new project, one that he couldn't talk about but he was scared. I could see it in his eyes, the pressure he was under. He said that they were done, that yesterday was going to be the last day and then he could come back home and they murdered him to keep it all quiet!"

Patting her on the back I was about to speak up but Nene beat me to it. "Who?" she asked, the question pulled almost unwillingly from her lips as we both knew who it had to be, we just couldn't bring ourselves to voice it yet paradoxically needing to hear it from her lips.

And so we did. "Genom, those bastards!" her voice held a vehemence I've never heard before. "When I confronted that bastard Mason he didn't even deny it just hid away behind those damn boomers of his." That statement shot cold water down my spine.

Mason, I knew that name, I knew that face. It still haunted my thoughts, and if what Irene had said was anywhere close to the truth he might not be done cleaning up whatever dirty project it was yet, and worse if she went after him he might, might go after her too. I'm not a brave person by nature, and the thought of being there when Mason decided to finish cleaning up loose ends terrified me.

While Nene tried her best to reassure Irene that we were there for her, that we would do something, get the police involved or private detectives to look into it all I could do was hold Irene close, the shaking from her grief concealing my own fear induced shiver. Shamefully my thoughts concentrated more on my own fears than my friend until Nene spoke up once more in response to something Irene said when I wasn't paying attention.

"We are NOT leaving you alone right now Irene. Look, why don't you get dressed, but the last thing we're going to do is 'just forget about it'! We won't abandon you, will we Kari?"

And just like that I knew what I had to do and what to say. "No we won't, we're here for you, it's what friends are for." I swallowed the lump in my throat, burying the cowardice that had almost made me abandon her. Genom was powerful and yes, Mason was scary, but right now, right now Irene needed us, and even if sex wasn't the answer to her problem that didn't mean I was useless. I could still be there for her, to support her and Nene, and if all else failed to share her pain. At least I could be her friend.

It took a quarter hour to get her dressed and moving again, but at least once started she didn't slip back into her previous despair even when left alone in the restroom briefly. Taking the chance Nene and I huddled.

"We can't leave her alone." I said, glancing over my shoulder towards the stalls as if it weren't already obvious who I was talking about.

"I agree, she needs a friend, someone to look out for her tonight…" biting her lower lip adorably Nene suddenly smiled. "Jan Ken Pon to see who looks after her?"

I stifled a little laugh, rock paper scissors might be just a child's game in the US, but the Japanese take it seriously. I even read once about how two different auction houses had to compete with Jan Ken to decide which one won the right to sell a load of antiques. With a nod my hands were in position and taking Bart Simpsons advice I choose rock. Nothing Beats Rock, and thankfully Nene was born too late to know that throwing scissors.

"Don't worry, I've got it covered, I'll call you if anything happens." Looking up into Nene's emerald green eyes I gave her my best self-confident grin and thumbs up. We parted ways at the tube station back to Irene's apartment, giving Nene a smile and disappearing into the subway once more.

"You don't have to do this for me Kari san, I'll be fine really…" Irene tried again to excuse herself as we neared her stop but I wasn't having any of it. I could tell_ subject lying 87% likely_ from her tone she was only being polite and seeing the fragility behind those rich brown eyes there was no longer a question what I would do.

"You can't get rid of me that easily." I laughed a little at her confusion, a phrase out of time and place I suppose. "I mean it, I'm your friend and it isn't an imposition. If anything I should be apologizing to you for tagging along like this. I hope that you do not mind the intrusion?" Making it a question was the right move. She seemed taken aback as we exited the subway and started for the stairs.

"Oh, no, not at all, I would be happy to have you over, I just, I don't want to be a bother." Pausing at the top I took her hands and looking up into her eyes I shook my head slightly trying to impress the seriousness of my offer even while the back of my mind was jealously measuring the inches she had on me, five or six at the least!

"It is not a bother." My tone firm, I used the most formal and serious of tenses to ensure that she fully understood my sincerity. Breaking into a smile I released her hands and added in a much lighter tone. "Besides, I'm about to be kicked out of my apartment and I'm going to need a place to stay. Who says I'm not just using this as an excuse to scout out yours?"

That brought a genuine laugh for the first time since it had gotten dark enough for streetlights and she responded incredulously, "You're really getting kicked out?"

"Oh yes, I've got a nice place but it's in a development zone and I'm expecting the eviction notice any day." I was so focused on Irene that I almost didn't notice the sudden flare of headlights in time.

We were just passing through one of the transition zones from retail to residential, walking under a highway overpass. The growl of a large engine echoing louder and it was almost too late when I realized the luxury sedan wasn't just driving fast, but coming straight at us.

Instantly I could feel the world starting to slow, my pulse starting to race. _Warning, systems unable to maintain accelerated operation mode,_ ignoring that warning and others that vied for my attention I pushed myself hard overriding the errors ruthlessly with a small part of my mind even as I reached out to snatch Irene and pulled her behind one of the support pillars with bare seconds to spare.

With a squeal of tearing metal the cars side hit the pillar, abused concrete cracking as chunks were blasted free by the impact. Rubble tumbled into the street even as the car swerved away and into a rough turn ahead of us. The world still appearing to move in slow motion I had plenty of time to watch the driver, a woman, her eyes hidden behind dark glasses look over the results of her handiwork, a frown crossing her immaculate lips as her gaze fixed on Irene and knew we had to run.

Matching actions to thought I didn't let up on my hold one bit. I tugged Irene back the way we had come, _warning oxygen supply insufficient for continued accelerated operations mode time to systems failure 00:04:32:12 _. Even as we ran the roar of the big V8 growled behind us, and the car finished its turn to come after us.

"Run!" I managed, sounding low and absurd to my ears, the command was probably unnecessary as beside me Irene was already moving as fast as she could. It felt as if we were stuck in molasses, the car inexorably gaining on us. I knew we couldn't beat it on foot, we needed to change the equation. Splitting my thoughts I reached out to my phone, engaging the Bluetooth functionality to send a desperate text message off to Nene, and even though only a handful of seconds passed I had more than enough time to describe the situation in full, our location, and ask her to dial 911.

Looking for anything I spotted a set of stairs just beyond the underpass leading up. We reached them just in time to avoid the returning car. As we dashed up them the sedan slammed on its brakes shimmying to a halt. Lurking there engine rumbling we continued to run. I knew I couldn't keep this up long _00:04:23:42_, and from the frantic butterfly pulse beneath my fingers neither could Irene.

Nearting the top my phone began to ring, but it was Nene and I didn't have the time to answer it in any case so I texted a response on the fly – Galatea: Can't talk, running for life, get help, call police! Once more my ability to multitask was priceless as we panted for breath at the top of the stairs.

I could feel the world starting to speed back up, my systems just unable to maintain the accelerated pace, but let it happen, losing the crystal clarity of the moment, the thudding of my pulse like a machinegun in my ears as I looked for somewhere else to run, or hide. Unfortunately Irene didn't wait long enough to catch her breath or make a plan, hand slipping free she turned to run down the raised street towards downtown.

Panting painfully I started after her and yelling as I noticed what she hadn't. "Wait, Irene, there's an onramp, Stop!" Unfortunately by the time I caught up to her the next set of stairs was still a hundred meters away. We were caught out in the open as the hateful but now familiar roar of our pursuit echoed around us the sedan barreling up the ramp and onto the road.

Turning back the way we came we ran. Panting for breath, lungs burning Irene tripped just meters short of the stairs back down. I whipped my head back watching the car rushing to catch us and knew it was too fast. Panicky I reached down trying to get Irene to her feet.

The woman's car squealed to a halt opposite us, only a concrete lane barrier left for cover. As I managed to haul Irene up, the coppery scent of blood from her knees caught my nose as if a harbinger of what was coming. The car door swung wide as a shapely feminine leg lead the way out.

I swallowed nervously as the female boomer stepped from the car. Long trench coat billowing slightly in the wind its head turned to regard the pair of us, my frightened expression reflected perfectly in its shiny sunglasses. Even near panic I could feel that alien strangeness, the asexual quality that advertised the woman's true nature loud and clear to my instincts but was so artfully disguised by its shape. Moving with a predatory grace toward us it vaulted the barrier without even breaking stride.

"Irene, run, run now" my voice was soft, eyes never moving from the woman, boomer that was coming closer. I felt oddly calm even as claws ripped free of its fingertips, malicious smile of glee crossing its lips. This was what it lived for, was born for. Killing was this monsters passion.

Hanging onto the railing Irene gasped back "I can't, go, it's after me, save yourself." Her words were wonderful; absolving me of any guilt they should have been all I needed to hear to run like the cowered I am, to save myself. I knew I could make it if I had to. I could push my body one last time, get away while, while this monster killed my friend.

That realization was what it took to make up my mind. _Warning system unstable accelerated mode no longer…_ With an effort of will I cut off the ongoing internal warnings, bypassed the safety protocols and pushed myself back into accelerated time just as it began to charge.

Stepping forward, the wind moaning eerily I heard Irene start to scream. I watched the enemy come setting myself firmly before it, thoughts and strategies almost blazing across my mind. Was I strong enough to block? Would it even notice a punch, could it operate in the same mode as me?

I've never wished more that I knew martial arts or bemoaned my loss of height and strength than in that seemingly endless moment as it brought razor tipped fingers swung down toward me. And then I had a plan, if not a very good one.

I was already falling backward as the reaching talons pierced my stomach. I could think fast, react with lightning speed, but I couldn't actually move faster than my assailant. Reaching out my hands caught its wrist slowing the strike but I wasn't strong enough to stop it completely. Continuing to fall backward I just managed to twist my head aside avoiding the second strike aimed for my head.

As our combined momentum shifted and my back struck the concrete roadway I brought a foot up and planted it firmly against my attacker's hip. Despite the pain as momentum and gravity pressed her claws deeper into my stomach I let out a grunt of effort and straightened my bent knee almost explosively.

Irene was still screaming as the hungry look on the boomer's face shifted to one of surprise as it's trajectory abruptly altered and in the creeping molasses time seemed to almost float away from me. As my skull hit the asphalt I smiled through the stinging pain and watched it sail over the guard rail. That fall had to be at least thirty feet _distance to roadway 12.3 meters_.

Then mind bombarded by error messages my vision greyed out and even my processors lost track of time. With a start I felt something wet on my cheeks. "Kari, please wake up oh god you have to be alright!" Blinking my eyes clear I saw Irene above me a look of terror on her face until I began to move.

"I'm" _Reset due to system stress from accelerated operations mode, fluidics level dropping, 14.2% damage to abdominal cavity, self-repair systems functioning at 32% efficiency, time to full recovery unavailable, time to stabilization 00:15:14:00 estimated, time until cessation of systems without maintenance 84:15:00:00 estimated. _

I had been about to say fine, but that wasn't what made it past my lips "Bleeding." Even to my own ears my voice sounded thready and weak. Before she could do much more to fuss over me or my fuzzy thoughts could put together a question the sirens which I realized had been growing in the background swelled, surprisingly loud with the arrival of police and dazed minutes later an ambulance.

All while Irene hovered over me protectively, her words of reassurance tumbling from pale bloodless lips that I would be okay. Despite that and my fumbling attempts to reassure her she didn't seem to believe it. Maybe that had something to do with the odd floating feeling I had. Almost like I was disconnected from my body and nothing happening was really, real.

As the paramedics lifted me into the ambulance a second face joined Irene's looming over me with concern, the red hair coming into focus first I heard something about 'protecting the witness' as Nene bulled her way into the ambulance with us. I tried to smile, but wasn't sure if my lips made it when something pricked my arm and a familiar reassuring warmth began to spread along my vein.

I blinked as the first tendrils of new warmth reached my heart and with a beat the world seemed to rush into focus, sounds crisp, colors sharp, and the smell of antiseptic, copper, and iron filling my nostrils. I could feel the blood they were transfusing filling my veins with life, the vitality of it shocking after weeks of slow decline. Cells that had all but shut down gaining new life with each beat of my heart.

"Ma'am can you hear me?" An EMT asked leaning close and watching my eyes for movement. In the background I could hear another voice speaking softly but quickly, rattling off improving vital signs.

Opening my mouth I had to try twice, swallowing between to get out my answer. "Yes, I can."

"What kind of augmentation do you have, we can't get any response from the maintenance jack and need to know what we're dealing with to treat you." At the question I realized amid the many self-diagnostics and warning messages that I had been receiving a hardline access request. I let out a sigh of relief. If my maintenance port wasn't fused they would have known just what I was already.

Thankfully I had a cover story built into my MPI card, and it was compatible with what treatment I really did need. "TrueNature, reconstruction," my response coming in fits and starts, the pauses unfortunately not at all feigned as I had to gather my strength before each little bit. "Need blood, and…"

But seeing my difficulty and quite good at his job the medic nodded pressing a finger to my lips, "Yes, specialized nutrients and additives to your food to keep them from overwhelming your natural circulatory system. You're very lucky; with your injuries the additional strain from them almost overcome you."

Behind him the second man pulled out a syringe and swapping out the nearly empty blood pack for a fresh one used the additives nipple to inject several CC's of a silvery gel into the blood before palpitating the bag to mix it evenly.

As I watched him work I noticed a chill on my chest, and if not for my nature would have blushed deeply as I glanced down and realized for the first time I was naked from the waist up. Well, that is if you discounted the pressure bandages wrapped around my abdomen. Apparently they don't fool around with wound treatment and only now that I was stable enough to react did anyone seem to take notice of my state of dress.

Unfortunately the trigger for their notice was a subconscious and autonomic response stemming from mine. As the immediate threat of shutdown began to subside other hardwired instincts built into my body went to work. Hopefully the blush and blanket that quickly followed were just because the EMT thought I was cold…

Two units of blood were like heaven, unfortunately we arrived at the hospital before they had a chance to go for number three, and I knew I had to draw the line. They might not have identified me in a moving ambulance with emergency equipment but if they got me into the ER with a proper suite of tools… No, I couldn't go in there.

So, as they pulled the stretcher from the back of the ambulance, Nene and Irene following along at its side like remora I reluctantly spoke up. "Stop, I, I refuse treatment." Licking my lip I looked from one medic to the other as their mouths gaped open.

"But, your hurt you need surgery, we already have you here…" it was obvious the senior medic didn't know quite what to do with the situation. Nene was looking at me with concerned realization, her eyes widening even as Irene began to protest. "But, Kari, you have to, your injured, you could have died, you still might die please, you have to let them help you!"

But I just shook my head interfacing with my phone to send a quick text to Nene who was standing nearby her own shocked disbelief quickly vanishing as her mind worked along the same path mine had, and she realized I was afraid of being exposed as a boomeroid. Eyes darting from the buzzing at her waist to meet mine she slowly nodded not even needing to see what I had written to understand my desire.

The argument with the two medic's didn't stop there of course, neither one willing to let an injured topless girl just walk away, and possibly die when she obviously still needed help and they might have ignored my request when Nene spoke up her voice firm enough even though I could hear the uncertainty lurking behind its official facade.

"Ceallaigh-san is quite correct and within her rights to refuse treatment. She is obviously in her right mind, her vitals are stable are they not, and for you to continue to treat her against her wishes is a violation of the law. Just because 'we'," and it was obvious just how much concern she still had over my recovery from the inflection of that word "Don't feel it is the right choice does not give us the right to overrule it." She let out a breath sagging down a little after her uncharacteristic speech. Obviously her position in the AD Police didn't call on her to use her authority very often.

"Thank you Officer Romanova." I smiled, giving her my best effort at innocent eyes but from the set of her jaw I could tell it wasn't working to reduce her concern or anger.

"You're welcome Ceallaigh-san, however you will be coming with me. As victim and witness to a boomer crime and not being held for medical treatment there is no excuse not to." The smile she gave me in revenge was so guileless I swear butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.

Unfortunately for all of us it was also loud enough that the other responding officers heard her and so before I could object I was whisked away, skirt, blanket, bloody shirt in a bag and Irene by Inspector's McNicols and Wong.

Wong wasn't bad; in fact he was almost as comforting a presence as Nene or Irene as the five of us rode back towards ADP headquarters. It was fairly obvious he wasn't interested in me either, unlike his partner who had adjusted the rearview mirror, probably in hopes of catching a free show if my blanket slipped.

When we got to headquarters Leon's sunglasses also seemed to act like blinders. His questions and focus, once he got past my appearance, were totally on the attack and pulled more information from me than I realized I even had. However it took his partner to cut him off when the pain of my injuries and the stress of the evening threatened to have me passing out, I can only imagine how much worse it might have been as a fully flesh and blood woman unable to suppress most of the pain.

Riding home, Nene drove both Irene and myself. Sticky sweaty and dressed in a spare blouse she'd had at work I fell asleep in the car. The aches and pain fully subsiding as I finally let my systems take over and drop me into a full regenerative cycle.


	7. Chapter 7

Frozen Butterfly 2 a story of Bubblegum Crisis

Chapter 7.2 – Whiteout

My arm was too hot, and my back was too cold. I felt the aching pain of my abdominal injury, but strangely it was the feel of something soft gently brushing along the fingers of one hand that absorbed my attention. Waking up after a traumatic injury in bed curled up with a girl is a surreal experience.

My first thought was that I was dreaming, but the warning and status messages that began to clamor for my attention proved that wasn't the case quickly enough. Without moving, I tried to figure out just how I had gotten into this situation when a more pressing concern arose. How could I keep from sneezing due to the full head of red hair my nose was buried in?

The first question is simple enough, apparently even 'asleep' my subconscious is programed to cuddle, the second took a bit more effort. I squirmed a bit as I worked out how to override the natural reaction to a ticklish nose.

Nene let out a little gasp, and I could feel her grow tense in my arms. Yes I was behind her one arm under the other wrapped around her waist with my knees pulled up to spoon the young AD Policewoman. The fingers slowly tracing the contours of my hand fled as Nene quickly squirmed free of my embrace a touch of embarrassment in her voice. "Kari, you're awake!"

It was difficult to tell if she was more upset or embarrassed, but as she moved I could see we weren't alone on the futon. Just beyond her the reason my back was cold became obvious. Irene was hogging the sheets, curled with the majority of the covers and groaning softly at the sudden movement and noise before she buried her head further away from the light streaming through the windows.

I started to sit up as well, stomach muscles clenching before a sharp pain in my gut convinced me that wasn't a good idea. Flopping back onto the futon and staring up at the ceiling, I turned my head slightly to catch Nene's eye. "What are you doing here, and, why are you in my nightshirt?"

It seemed a slightly safer question than what are you doing in my bed. It was kind of cute to see her cheeks reddening to match her hair but she managed to change the emotion into a huff of annoyance, or at least disguise it so before responding with a question of her own. "You really don't remember?"

While I shook my head slightly Irene gave a muffled protesting moan from the bundle of fabric before Nene spoke up again. "Well, I guess you were pretty out of it. After we got you in the car you just passed out, and then when we got here we woke you up, or thought we had. Did you know you sleep walk?"

Shaking my head I tried to figure out how that might have happened. To my surprise I found an entire suite of subroutines designed to make transporting me easier. I really would have gone with them, all without even needing to engage my primary processors. That is a little scary.

"Anyway after we got you upstairs and clean, we put you to bed. By the then it was really late, and we were both tired so, we just kind of raided your closet and stayed." She looked over at Irene's pile of blankets for a moment before leaning down to whisper, "I didn't think it was a good idea to leave either of you alone."

I nodded up at her and otherwise lay still. Even though I had the energy I couldn't muster the will to get myself up this morning. Abandoning me to the mercies of the sun, Nene slipped off to the small kitchen area of the apartment. She made several disapproving noises as she searched my rather bare cupboards, given my own minimal needs, for anything to eat and didn't have much luck.

"Grapefruit, Spinach, Water and… is this machine oil in your refrigerator?" Nene's voice called out incredulously. "If this diet is what it takes to look that good I don't think I want to."

"There's ice cream in the freezer." I shot back a little defensively. I don't know why just… I guess it's never pleasant to feel like a freak no matter how small the degree. Running fingers over my nightshirt and the pressure bandage beneath it I nervously called up an internal diagnostic. _Fluidics systems at 86%, Ocular systems at 81.2%, Damage to abdominal cavity and associated musculature 10.2% all damage has been contained, time to repair 123:12:00 at current rate. Unit function limited by 14.3% within operational limitations, 5.6% exceeding operational limitations._

I was going to be okay. Hell, I was even a bit better off than before the attack. Now if I could just figure out some way to get injured like that on a bi-weekly or monthly to get the transfusions…

Nene's voice pulled me out of the idle contemplation of future mayhem. "Well, I guess we'll make do. You better get Irene up; I don't know if she has to do anything today." Her voice cut through my ruminations tickling the back of my mind and I sat up grimacing; my stomach aching in pain as I forgot to move slowly.

"Yes mother!" I answered her, my tone conveying my thoughts on the subject well. Crawling over to Irene I laughed at the incredible tangle she had managed to make of the covers. Reaching out I gently shook what I thought was a shoulder. "Hey, Irene, time to get up."

It took a second shake before she reluctantly began disentangling herself and I doubt she would have if she thought for a moment she could get away with sleeping in. But in just a few minutes we were all up, looking somewhat bedraggled kneeling around the low table in my entire collection of nightshirts prepared to have breakfast.

"You woke me up for this?" Irene's voice was arch as she looked at the third of a grapefruit, water, and slice of lettuce in the bowl before her. "At least tell me you have sugar I can sprinkle on it…" I had to smile at the dismay displayed on her face after she realized that there really wasn't any to be had.

I'm a bad person and I may be feeling a little under the weather but somehow watching my friends suffer through what to me was a perfectly appetizing and filling breakfast perked me right back up. "Thank you guys for looking after me." I gave them each a small smile and bow of thanks. Nene blushed and quickly murmured, "It was nothing."

"Oh?" this was possibly better than the grapefruit. I turned to Irene hoping she would explain the strange response looking forward to a juicy story. _Subject behavior indicative of embarrassment 95%_, like I hadn't figured that out for myself.

"It's nothing much," Irene started her tone droll, continuing despite a maligned "Don't you dare!" from Nene. "It's just that little Nene-chan here lost at Jan Ken and that's why you're not all messy this morning."

A warm little sensation began to crawl up my body as I realized that I was clean. Nene had taken the time and embarrassment last night to wash me off rather than leave me to itching from dried blood all over my body. Still, gratitude aside, it was too good an opportunity to pass up teasing my ma-most dear friend. "Oh thank you Ne-Chan. I know it couldn't have been much fun, having to rub my naked body, all over, but I'm really very grateful that you did…" Stressing 'all over' and giving a sensuous little wiggle as I teased her.

Even as Nene turned red as a tomato Irene and I lost the fight to hold back our laughter. A moment later Nene joined us. "Oh, you two are just so bad!" she exclaimed as the noise level dropped. "See if I ever do that again." Hands slapping over her mouth as what came out sounded worse than intended before we all broke into laughter a second time.

Laughing that hard actually hurt and I fell back lying down and started to beg, "S-stop, making me, laugh, it hurts" Holding my sore belly and trying to suppress the giggles.

Thankfully this did end the teasing, Nene's expression showing concern before a glance at her watch had her standing up to glare down at the pair of us, fists on hips. The pose somewhat ruined by the fact the nightshirt she was wearing had a print of an adorable kitten rearing back trying to look fierce on it. "It's nothing more than you deserve for picking on me. Anyway I have to go to work. Will you be okay, both of you?"

I nodded and glancing over saw Irene agreeing as well. "We'll be fine, go on you can visit after work."

With a bob of her head she disappeared into the bathroom to change and was out about the same time I finished catching my breath. Tossing my shirt onto the counter Nene slipped on her shoes and was out the door. Some of the light and life of the apartment seemed to depart with her.

Looking over at me with a searching gaze Irene examined me critically, "Will you really be okay? I know you said you'll be fine, but she stabbed you, and there was all that blood." I think Irene was paler than I was as she fell back into her memory of the previous evening. "How could you say no to the hospital, what if you're not alright?"

It took a moment to decide just how to answer her, how much to tell. "Well, you heard the paramedics' last night about how I've got cybernetics?" Seeing her nod I took a breath, the familiar physical sensation useful in steadying myself to go on.

"Well, I don't just have some cybernetics," my voice softening with each phrase, "I have a lot." The next time I spoke it was so quiet she had to lean forward and listen close to hear my words. "I have enough that just a fraction more and I'd be a boomeroid. I was in a bad accident, and, well, I don't like hospitals, not anymore. All it would take is one doctor making one little change and I could lose all my rights. Besides, I have ah, diagnostics, can sort of tell how bad it is, that part of me is mostly fake anyway…"

Her eyes widened then narrowed as she considered my words. I know she hadn't guessed the truth or even how extensive I claimed things were, but I could tell, _probability 87%, _I had her full sympathy and trust in that moment.

"That, that's awful, I'm sorry Kari, I really am. If there's anything I can do to help, please let me. You saved my life." Words spoken with a quiet intensity I had to believe, p_robability 94% subject feeling devotion and trust._

"Well..." okay I probably shouldn't ask; she's emotionally fragile; I would be taking advantage of her good will. _Indications subject will not grant request at this time too low to be meaningfully calculated _"Do you have room for one more in your apartment?" Damn it, I went and asked anyway, I must be a terrible person.

"Oh, OH, yes, of course I do." I saw her blink aside a tear and swallow to keep some strong emotion at bay. A moment's thought and I knew why. Her boyfriend... they were probably just about to move in together and now I was taking his place.

"Thank you." I carefully pushed myself back up to a kneeling position and set my hand atop hers and squeezed it gently. "That means a lot to me." It would also let me keep an eye on her. Make sure she really was alright after all the excitement and sadness of the last few days. A little cynical I admitted if only to myself but at least I would be helping pay back my selfishness that way.

The rest of the day fell into place with surprising ease. A call into work, and I was on short term disability. Regulations said I would need a doctor's note to get off, but worrying over that now would just be borrowing trouble. We spent most of the afternoon boxing up all my things. Not because I had so much, but because neither of us really wanted to rush it and deal with dark cloud hanging over our heads.

Someone tried to kill Irene, and doubtless they were now after us both. A person most likely named Brian J. Mason, Executive level bastard in the largest most untouchable and powerful corporation to ever grace the face of this earth. The only chance we had was that he wouldn't dare another public attack now that the police were involved.

Going to sleep that evening, in a new apartment, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling and listening to Irene's breathing slow I was left with just one thought before I went to sleep. We're screwed.

Snapping awake I sat up and looked around. Not out of confusion, I knew instantly where I was and what was going on, just because I remembered my last thoughts before bed. Thankfully the only movement in the apartment was from Irene halfheartedly getting up for breakfast.

Today was Kenshiro's funeral. The sky was overcast when we arrived, but thankfully the rain held off during the service. It was a quiet, depressed ceremony and went quickly. I felt out of place wearing a black dress borrowed from Irene but was able to fake it so well his mother thought I had been a friend of his for years.

I watched silently as she spoke to others there, who had known Kenshiro, telling stories and wondered how they could include me so easily after just a few innocent words when inside I knew it was all a sham. Looking at the black draped picture frame I wondered what kind of a man he was. Would we have really become friends, or just distant acquaintances? I would never know.

As a light rain began to fall we got into her car. The ride back was quiet the weather matching my morose mood. All I could think about was that it could have been me, or maybe that it had been me years ago. I had missed my own funeral and in some strange way this one felt like a replacement.

I was grateful when Irene asked to be alone for a while after we got back. I could see she needed a good private cry and so quietly I slipped out of the apartment. I had one last thing I needed to pick up from my apartment anyway.

The guns.

When we packed things up, I hid them away in fear that Irene would see. But sitting through the funeral, uncomfortably aware of the mass of humanity around me, I realized how naive I had been. We were being hunted. If anything she should be relieved to have guns available, not frightened of them.

When I got back I decided to reveal their existence to Irene, but rather than explain I had them before the attack I could just say I got them afterwards for defense. Yes, that would work, it would have to, we needed that protection. Looking up I cursed, it might already be too late.

Ahead of me was a wall of orange steel and flashing lights, a crowd already gathered as heavy construction equipment moved into place around my old apartment. So much for the two day notice. If I didn't miss my guess, the building was going down now or at least within the hour.

I heard the yelling before I saw her. A striking brunette with memorable red hued eyes, she had a voice like a drill instructor; it was vibrant and cut through the background racket as contemptuously as her words were dressing down the unfortunate cop in front of her.

To my surprise I recognized the police she was yelling at as well; Inspector McNichol. What on earth were the AD Police doing here; keeping an eye out on construction boomers? It was what he said next that made my step falter for a moment and really caught my attention though. "What they're doing is legal."

Wait, what? No it isn't. I take a step toward the pair when through a break in the crowd I spot Mason beside one of the wrecking machines beyond them. Heart thumping, blood rushing in my ears I turn planning to run when I hear a voice call my name and a hand lightly lands on my shoulder. "Kari? It is you, are you alright; we actually were coming by to talk with you when we ran into this little situation."

It was Inspector Wong, McNichol's partner, and I let my heart rate slow, and my grasp on accelerated time loosen as the panic began to subside. Twisting a little so that even if Mason were to look my way he wouldn't see anything more than my back, I gave the inspector a fair imitation of a smile.

"Yes, well… I'm feeling okay," I almost stopped there but what Genom was doing bothered me. "But what your partner said isn't true. We never received notice and by contract they're required to give us two days to leave. If you check the apartment manager's office the physical paper work is probably still there or you can get the electronic copies on file with the city." Hearing the rumble of machinery starting up I go on. "Either way you better hurry or it's all going to be moot; I won't have a door to knock on."

He took only a moment to look into my eyes before nodding and with a swift stride turned back to his partner and rescued him from the brunet's wrath by dragging him along to confront Mason and the demolition coordinator. I took the chance to slip into the crowd becoming part of its anonymity noting a woman slip past the safety lines to run into the building.

It was a tragedy waiting to happen, thankfully Inspector Wong seemed to be as silver tongued as quick footed, and I imagine the idea of waiting one or two days versus the possibility of a class action lawsuit, possible manslaughter, and the associated costs of litigation were enough to convince Mason to halt the vehicles before they did more than rumble loose a few window panes. The chance to beat down the proletariat would have to wait for another day.

It took them a few minutes to get organized but then a loud clear voice echoed throughout the block with an announcement. "As of 5:45 pm all residents are hereby given notice to depart the premises or be evicted. Demolition will begin in exactly 48 hours. Anyone still on the premises at that time will be incarcerated."

The announcement was met with a ragged cheer, rather halfhearted given that this was only a stay of execution. I joined in blending with the others as best as I could, eyes following Mason as he walked off. Arrogant in his expensive suit, he almost sauntered to a waiting limousine as if daring anyone to object further before driving off.

Only once he was gone and the crowd began to break up did I approach the trio of Wong, McNichol, and the angry woman; A woman who was now bitterly haranguing Inspector McNichol and though she looked about thirty seconds from violence she showed clear signs of relief. _Female subject's behavior indicates familiarity and contempt for focus of attention. 89% certainty anger is coping method for reliving stress._

"Legal my ass, what the hell good are you? You were going to let them tear down my home without lifting a finger to stop it and two seconds with Daley has them backing down? Some cop you are, why don't you at least pretend to do your job and get out of here!"

"Come on, he had all the right paperwork, how was I supposed to know about the notice time?" I heard him say in a wheedling tone of voice, but ignored the rest of his attempt to escape her wrath in favor of talking to his partner.

"Thank you Inspector Wong. I'm already moved out, but my neighbors still have a lot to do. Would you like to come inside? I can't offer you much other than a place out of the wind and a floor to sit on, but at least it would be private."

"That might be for the best, to save my partner if nothing else." He laughed, it was a nice laugh, easy to join in with, comfortable. _Too bad he was so gay_. I trailed after him as he collected or should I say rescued his partner from the still belligerent woman who only stopped her diatribe after looking me over to offer me a fairly gruff "Thanks, I heard what you did, good job."

"Ah, your welcome, I live here too." An answer that left a slightly confused expression on both our faces, mine mirroring hers a moment after it formed. Clearly I was missing something but I hadn't a clue what it could be.

"What?" She answered her tone now confused before a wide almost smug smile crossed her lips. It looked good on her and I know almost instantly it isn't directed at me, there's too much glee in her expression. "So I have you to thank for this as well? Looks to me like we should stop wasting our taxes on the police entirely, can't stop boomers or creeps as well as you can."

By now I was completely lost and my expression must have shown it as she took pity on me. "A friend told me what you did the other night. You're exactly how she described you, tiny, cute as a doll, with light green eyes and even lighter white-blond hair."

"Wait, how do you know it was me?" I protested trying to hide the nervous tension suddenly singing in my veins.

"Well I'm pretty familiar with a homemade bandage job myself" she said gesturing towards my stomach, "and girls with your hair color aren't exactly common, but Leon admitted the reason he was here was to talk to a witness from the other night. Seeing you with his better half was the clincher. I'm Priss, nice to meet you."

Taking the boldly offered hand I shook it rather timidly. "I, I'm Kari, it's nice to meet you Priss-san." My eyes widening as I made the connections, "Oh my god, you're the singer, the one from Hot Legs with the absolutely HUGE hair!" That reaction brought a deep rolling laugh from her and a blush at my effrontery to me. "Sorry, you just look better without the wig, and it took a minute to recognize you."

"Guilty as charged." She answered, then after a moment passed without anyone speaking went on "Thanks again, but I better see what I can do about my stuff, just don't let those two push you around. We need more people like you in this town." And with that sterling recommendation Priss the replicant, er of the Replicants walked out of my life as swiftly as she had entered it leaving me to the mercies of the AD Police.

This follow-up interview wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Still I was nervous sitting on the floor with two armed members of the AD Police. Despite hearing my own pulse in the empty apartment it felt like they could see truth. They'll see through you any moment a voice inside was screaming or trying to scream but between how much attention McNichol was paying to my breasts, and how little Wong gave them I was able to silence those fears and answer their questions.

Keeping my story consistent with my answers from the other night was easy. Being able to recall the previous conversations exactly kept me from making any contradictory statements. I was also careful not to repeat myself too closely either. It might be paranoid but too good a memory or answers that were too consistent might end up raising suspicions too.

It felt strange piling illegal handguns into a backpack minutes after the cops had left. The back of my neck itched as I half expected them to return at any moment and catch me in the act.

Foolishness really, it only took thirty seconds to pull them out from beneath the sink, and another minute to pack them away after making sure they weren't loaded. Even so I waited another five tense minutes before setting foot outside my apartment. Just in case.

There wasn't any sign of them, just a frenetic energy as the entire complex crawled with people moving, preparing to move, and shouting back and forth about how they couldn't possibly move in time.

Letting out the breath I had been holding I started down the stairs, carefully winding my way between people boxes and running children. For the first time in the last hour I was able to really think and as I did I realized something strange. Priss knew who I was.

Now I know she explained how she knew, but looking back s_ubject was showing signs of duplicity, indications explanation incomplete 88%. _That means she has to know Nene, or Irene. Only it can't be Irene because she's been with me constantly since the attack. When would she have had the time for a phone call much less a meeting? For that matter when would Nene have had the time?

It's been barely a day and a half since the attack. Nene worked yesterday, and this morning until a few hours ago she had been at the funeral with Irene and me. Add that it's more than obvious that Priss doesn't like the police how would they even have gotten to know each other or close enough to share that kind of thing on such short notice.

For that matter shouldn't I have heard about her before now if Nene was a friend? I mean, we even went to listen to her sing; I would have expected Ne-chan to brag about knowing the artist that if nothing else. Something didn't add up and I couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was. I would just have to ask Nene about it the next time I saw the little redheaded sneak. Thinking of her brought a fond smile to my lips.

That smile however didn't last long as I considered the other oddity of the day, Mason. Just what was he doing there? It's hard to believe that someone at his level is actually required to be at the start of construction, or even handholding whoever is there through breaking the law on evictions. Was it possible he was looking for me? Did he already put together the attack on Irene and my survival and escape, or was it just a huge coincidence.

The rest of the trip back to Irene's apartment— actually our apartment was painless but nerve wracking as those concerns swirled in my head. On top of that as a rule I don't like to break the law, and there isn't much about carrying a backpack full of unregistered firearms that doesn't break it somehow. I found myself acutely aware of every cop and camera I passed along the way.

That nervousness was only made worse by the subway ride. It was getting toward noon and as usual that meant more people crushed into less space. Having to fight the rising needs of my own body, while standing amid the crush of humanity made me feel like a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. The slightest misstep could lead to disaster. What if someone bumped my bag and felt the guns, would they recognize the shape? Could they hear the rattle of metal on metal? What if a police dog smelled the guncotton!

So it was slightly panicked, eyes wide and pulse rapid that I stumbled out of the tube station and gasped in large cleansing breaths of fresh air once finally released from the subterranean purgatory. The guilt over having lied to Irene earlier had been building the entire time and unfortunately I couldn't escape it quite so easily. Slipping inside I stumbled to a halt looking up into Irene's concerned and slightly tear streaked face. "Kari, where have you been, I was getting worried with you injured like that…"

I couldn't hide it, nervously shifting the backpack from one shoulder around into my arms and just sort of blurted out, "Getting these…" Her eyes going wide as I unzipped the bag, revealing the plethora of handguns and only a quick shift of balance keeping one from sliding free and falling to the floor.

Standing there, feeling like a child before the principle I struggled to explain. "They're guns," duh, "for protection… I, we've been attacked once, but we got lucky. I wanted something to protect you, and me in case it happened again."

Lips pressed tightly together I looked up at her imploringly, rather like a puppy hoping for approval. "Is, is that alright? I know they're illegal but, Mason tried to kill you!" I cringed slightly as she stepped forward, _subject's emotions too volatile to anticipate reaction._ Then taking the backpack from me she carefully set it aside and gave me a powerful hug.

Her body heaving as she cried fresh tears, sobs in time with the throbbing of my healing abdomen but I didn't care. That pain was easily blocked, she wasn't doing any real harm, and I was too relieved that she wasn't upset to have cared even if she was.

My arms reached back around her returning the embrace and we stood like that, not speaking for _five minutes twelve seconds _before she broke the embrace. Wiping the tears from a face now settling into a determined gaze she looked to me. "Can you show me how they work?"

I had to almost laugh at myself. I barely knew enough to fire them much less teach someone else. Certainly I didn't know enough to maintain them for any real length of time, and with her request for training I realized that I really didn't know the second thing about firearms.

Still I would do my best. Thankfully they were all identical, Flint apparently bought in bulk or had a preference for his favorite handgun. "Well, they aren't that hard to use, this lever releases the magazine and secures it. This is the safety, and before you fire you have to pull back the slide to get the first bullet into the chamber. These are all automatics so once you do that you just pull the trigger until it stops making loud noises." We shared a slight smile at that.

"I haven't really used these before so I don't know if the slide locks back or not, but hey, at least we have two each and if we haven't stopped whatever is trying to kill us with sixty four bullets I don't know that reloading to try again is going to matter. Just, don't try to be a gangster and fire both at once. In fact use both hands even firing just one. That fancy stuff is just for movies, or maybe professionals. We're neither." I warned her my voice getting more serious.

She nodded and we spent a few more minutes going over them, making sure they were all loaded, ready, and that we were at least somewhat familiar with the weight. Hiding two in the bedroom off the side of her flat, one in a drawer near the front door and the last one in the living room beside her couch we were about as ready for a siege as we were likely to get.

Those grim reminders hidden away, we settled down to watch TV. I was a little surprised at her choice as I hardly thought that harem anime would be her thing, but who knew. At least it made her smile a bit. Before I really realized what was happening; we weren't two people sitting on a sofa, watching TV.

We were two, people together, watching TV while sitting on a sofa. It was just so natural to respond to her need for touch, for the reassurance physical intimacy brings. By the time I realized she was slipping into my lap and the arm I had around her shoulders wasn't just companionable my conscious mind didn't know what to do. _Subject actions indicate susceptibility to physical advance at this time, 98% probability action will be reciprocated. _My instincts screamed to pull her closer, turn away from the TV and kiss her senseless.

My conscience on the other hand was a confused mess. I didn't feel that way about her, and it would be a betrayal, using her vulnerability and need against her wouldn't it? _Subject state of emotional susceptibility to manipulation forecast to continue for 36 hours with decreasing vulnerability over time. _Thankfully while I was still caught between intellect and instinct Irene settled down, content to sit nestled in my lap, my arm around her holding her close. _Initiate incidental contact with subjects breast, trailing fingers down stomach to rest on thigh and turn in to bring subject face to face. _My heart raced, not because I needed increased circulation to function, but because of where my instincts had been pressing me to go.

Things might have gotten awkward if I were capable of tensing up at unwanted contact. But the truth is, for a 33-S there is no such thing as an unwelcome touch. As she leaned back I wanted her there, I was comfortable with it, and even after I made a very definite decision not to seduce her, or allow her to seduce me for that matter, the only change was a slight shift in how my body drove me to respond.

_Gently stroke back, below line of bra stopping two inches above skirt. Circle, pat and repeat as needed until subject breath and heartbeat reach target parameters, then move hand to hip and maintain balance. _From potential lover to nurturer in six seconds, what a relief, I don't know what Nene would have done if I admitted to having seduced our grieving friend. At least this way I would still be able to look her in the eye the next time we met.

I was still sitting on the couch cradling Irene close and basically ignoring the hijinks on the television and the ache of my stomach when the front door blew off its hinges.

Irene and I stared as a female shape charged into the room behind the broken remnants of the front door. Spilling from the couch I felt the world dim and slow as I reached for accelerated time. The sound of Irene's high pitched yell dropping the slower the world around me seemed to move.

Unfortunately the boomer while appearing slow was already halfway to us and we were cut off from the bedroom. Worse Irene was between me and the edge of the sofa where the last gun was hidden.

Somehow I managed to reach my feet while imposing myself between the charging boomer and its real target. As I dropped into a slight crouch I recognized it, the same assassin that had come for us before the blade like nails already extended. Phone still in my pocket I sent a desperate cry for help.

Galatea: Nene, HELP! The boomer is back and attacking Irene's apartment.

Message sent I felt certain despair. Even if she was at work and could dispatch the AD Police instantly whatever was going to happen here would be long since done by the time they arrived. Worse the boomer slowed its charge, and despite the lovely plate glass window's overlooking a healthy drop it wasn't going to fall for the same trick twice. Why hadn't I ever learned kung fu, or at least downloaded the moves from one of the 3d fighting games. Anything would be better than this.

Jackie Chan, or at least the ghost of his memory came to my aid. I swept up one of the pillows from the couch moving just barely ahead of the hateful female before me. Stepping into her charge I twisted the cloth and padding in line with the first blow, its claws entangled were easy enough to sidestep.

Its other hand unfortunately caught me high on the thigh with a cutting ripping blow, and I could feel the muscles part, a sharp spike of pain quickly reduced to a dull background throb, _mobility impaired by 14%._ Damn, I could see each blow coming I just wasn't good enough, or fast enough to know what to do about them.

Knocking the cushion covered fist wide I managed a respectable punch to its sternum, driving the assassin back a pair of steps. Unfortunately that was all I managed before I had to pull back to avoid its next attack.

It was strange, arching my spine as I fell backwards I knew landing on the ground would be a death sentence, but my new body could do things I could only imagine before my death… which in this case was a very good thing because I had the time to imagine a lot. A backwards cartwheel and landing on my feet, even with an unsteady leg made me feel bad ass.

The boomer tearing the pillow to fluttering strips of shredded cloth started the process of spoiling that thought. Seeing it advance through the stuffing and ignore the rapid blast of gunfire from Irene buried it.

I was too far away and knew already I would be too late. Irene kneeling at the end of the sofa was pulling the trigger as fast as she could, gun held in two hands some of the shots even hit the target for all the good they did.

As the boomer struck she managed to get the gun up just in time to blunt the strike, but it still bowled her over sending her into the wall, three vicious white lines cut through the side of her head and ear. I could watch in slow motion as the blood pooling out of them my feet beating slowly as I charged.

I caught it still recovering, shoulder down and square in the middle of its chest, my hands pushing it's wrists out wide as I drove it into the flat screen against the wall. With a jolt of electricity and a soft popping sound like packing bubbles bursting the circuit breaker for the apartment blew plunging us into darkness.

For just a moment the beast lay motionless beneath me. But before I could celebrate I felt it tense and begin to overpower my hold. Leverage gives a profound advantage, but in this situation what I really needed was strength and weight. The struggle seeming to last forever it forced its arms up from the floor, its eyes glowing in the dark reminding me of nothing else so much as a terminator.

The implacable strength continued to force my arms upward. I couldn't stop it. I could only slow it down and a cruel twist overcame the boomer's features as it recognized that. If I let go it would kill me before I could escape, if I didn't let go it would kill me as soon as those wicked claws were in reach.

One had moving toward my face, the other chose a closer target, its claws grasping as it forced them to slowly pierce my shirt, bandaging, and finally plunging into my still damaged abdomen.

A soft whimper escaped my lips as it sat up, forcing me back and inch after inch of razor sharp claw slipped deeper in my flesh. Drawing away from its other hand I felt the claws slip down one side of my face, cutting deeply, a deadly caress moving closer to my throat.

And then it was there, blades sliding agonizingly slowly through my carotid artery in a short lived spray of blood.

Falling out of accelerated time was like coming down from some kind of exquisite high. Everything just short flashes as it shoved me off, my body falling limp to lie on the floor in a growing pool of blood while emergency systems desperately shut down my fluidics, trying to preserve as much as they could. Major motor control lost I looked up helplessly as the boomer leaned down to finish the job.

With the sound of screaming metal and shattering glass it was gone. A dizzying burst of light blinded me further for a moment before I saw two sleek metallic forms loom above. The first stalking past me like some kind of lethal hunter the other paused its featureless mask regarding me as a second somehow more final shriek of metal echoed through the apartment.

"Oh god, Kari?" The voice was masked, distorted as it echoed into the suddenly very quiet apartment. She dropped to her knees beside me as my vision went white once more, senses overloading before they failed, non-vital systems shutting down as my body tried to save itself but I knew it was already too late.

Even if the damage wasn't fatal from the strength of those electromagnetic scans she had to know the truth, that I was a boomer.

As I lay there bleeding and dying before the Pink Knight Saber I could only think of one thing to say.

"Sorry Ne-chan, I didn't want to lie."

My vision went dark, the world went silent, and I could feel the cold seeping into my limbs.

End Arc 2

With great thanks to Matthew Campbell for his assistance in proofreading and editing.


	8. Interlude

Frozen Butterfly 2 a story of Bubblegum Crisis

Interlude 1.3

The sudden violence in the apartment caught the watchers off guard. Hou Bang, a Chinese crime family, had hired the Knight Sabers to look after their chairman's granddaughter, Irene but handicapped their efforts. She wasn't to know they were there. Just like Genom wasn't supposed to be able to slip a boomer so close before Nene picked it up.

Those two facts combined explained the minute delay in their response, such a short time, but also an eternity.

As Nene followed in Priss' wake, her eyes grew wide at all the blood. Kari was absolutely coated in it, shirt plastered to her chest. A pool of blood forming against her belt as she lay still, awkwardly propped against the coffee table where she fell. Smears of red were everywhere.

Nene's armored gauntlet reached out to touch Kari's face but the slight woman was frighteningly still. Her eyes stared into eternity. The pink Knight Saber had to choke back the whimper that tried to escape her throat as a rivulet of blood trailed down Kari's neck.

Nene was stunned. Kari was a boomer, and now she's dead. How could this happen? If she hadn't already knelt the shock would have made her fall. Nene's fingers froze in the process of tracing down Kari's cheek. She was kneeling in a pool of her best friend's blood. She couldn't do anything but stare until Priss' rough voice came over the radio. "Irene's been hurt but she looks stable, your friend…"

Priss had seen the amount of blood on her way past, no one could survive that. She just wasn't sure how to snap Nene out of her horror. Thankfully her voice was enough to get Nene moving again. She looked over to see the blue hardsuited figure very gently lift Irene up. Unable to speak, Nene gave a tiny shake of her head unable to believe what had happened as Priss turned to face her.

"Look, it was brave what she did, braver than most, but we have to go." Priss tried to be sensitive as she stepped closer. But the Nene just looked away to stare at her friend's pale still body and swallowed. Priss' tone changed growing deeper, more emphatic. "We have to GO!"

Nene reached down picking up her friend, a friend who was a boomer. Seeing the question in Priss' stance she felt the need to defend her action. "She… doesn't deserve this, to be left here like garbage and forgotten."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Priss asked, her frustration and incomprehension growing. "Pink, get your head back in the game. She's beyond help, and I need you on the lookout for more boomers. We can't afford a fight with Irene injured like this." The punk turned private mercenary tried to keep her temper. She knew that Nene and Kari had been close, but they couldn't afford for her to break down now.

It was at that moment Nene realized, Priss didn't know! Her hardsuit's electronics were far more sensitive than the Blue Knight Sabers and so Priss didn't realize what Kari was. That there wouldn't be a funeral, she would be thrown out like trash, just another broken boomer.

Her grief-struck mind was almost caught up in a spiral of despair until Nene fixed on that last thought. Wait, a boomer? With sudden hope Nene reinitialized the scan.

Kari was dead, er non-functioning, but she still had power. More importantly, there wasn't very much actual damage to her body. There was still a chance to save her if they could get her systems online fast enough.

Filled with purpose, Nene checked their surroundings once more before leading the way. Priss followed behind a bit confused but relieved by the new urgency in her teammate's steps. Reaching the van Nene lay her friend down before stripping hastily from her hard suit. She worked frantically to bandage Kari's neck, though blood no longer flowed from the wound.

"Nene, stop, it's too late." Laying a hand gently on her shoulder Priss tried to pull her back only to see a surprisingly composed face turn to meet her. "It's Not!" The trailer rumbled over asphalt, the redhead turning back to her work as Priss stood by with a concerned look.

Sylia was waiting when they arrived in a garage hidden beneath the Silky Doll. Not only did the twenty two year old genius own the entire building, her lingerie boutique included, but she also funded and led the Knight Sabers. An engineering prodigy, she was the daughter of Katsuhito Stingray, inventor of the boomer. That legacy however had been stolen by Genom. They murdered her father in an industrial 'accident' leaving her to inherit only a quest for revenge on the mega-corporation.

Taking charge of the situation with grace and poise, she directed Priss to settle Irene in their small infirmary. A quick examination showed she would be fine for the moment. It was when she turned to the second, unconventional patient that the mask of control was strained while she contemplated the possibilities.

Priss had called ahead to tell her that Kari was dead. How Nene snapped and just couldn't let go. Even her gruff persona had cracked a bit when the singer let some real concern for Nene slip into her tone.

However as Sylia approached she didn't see the hysteria and denial Priss did. She saw that Nene had been hard at work, but not in a frantic attempt to deny the truth. Her eyes instead looked over what Nene had done already and analyzed the situation.

The reason for an emergency IV was obvious with the amount of blood that covered the still, blond form. Sylia's keen eyes however also noticed diagnostic tools scattered about, and an emergency power supply hooked into the body. That implied more was at work here. "Nene, what's going on?" Her voice cool, controlled, but sharp enough to draw an immediate response.

"She, Kari, She's a boomer." Even saying it aloud it didn't seem quite real to Nene. "I think I was fast enough to save her memory, but, I don't know how to, um, fix her…" Looking away from Sylia, her eyes settled on Kari's body. "Please, help…"

Uncertain about the wisdom of it, but unable to deny Nene's trust Sylia nodded. "Help me get her into the lab, I'll do what I can."

An hour later Sylia rejoined the others. Linna, the last member of the Knight Sabers had arrived while she worked, and none of the women looked happy.

"Mason has to pay." The vitriol in Nene's tone came as a shock. Never had Sylia heard that tone from her before.

Linna gave a sharp nod, "That bastard isn't going to get away with this," her shock at the attack having turned to a cold anger with an hour's reflection.

Priss looked up from where she sat watching over Irene, her gaze going from one woman to the next before she nodded. "I'm in. Let's put him in the ground. Sylia?"

Three pairs of eyes turned to Sylia who gazed back impassively. She considered each one before settling on the most innocent. "Nene, are you sure?" She looked to the others. "Are all of you?"

The assault up Genom tower was both exhilarating and frightening for Nene at the same time. As the Knight Sabers climbed that slope in flashes of fire and light she grit her teeth, wishing she had the same kind of firepower the others had. She wanted to strike out, to hit something, or more specifically someone, but that had never been her role.

Every time Nene closed her eyes, she could see Irene and Kari's faces, one cold and ashen, the other swaddled in bandages and purpling from the blow. It made for good motivation. Irene would live, but would carry scars for life. With Kari, it was impossible to say.

Sylia had come through with blood supply and hooked her into a backup power system, but Kari's heart remained still when they had to leave. Only time would tell if they had been in time to preserve her or if all that remained was a mindless automaton.

Nene used those thoughts to help bolster her determination as she crested the tower at Sylia's side. They came face to face with Brian J. Mason in a personal hardsuit with an imposing BU-55C combat boomer at his side.

Diving for cover, Nene's mind whirled. Her suit wasn't armed to take out something like that. Working faster than ever before, she managed to fool the sensors of the boomer tricking it off the edge of the tower as it circled her cover believing that to be solid ground. With a metallic shriek it tumbled out of the fight.

Below the summit, Priss and Linna fought a desperate holding action against the mechanized reinforcements responding to the Knight Sabers assault. The tumbling body of the 55-C ignored as it rolled down the tower past them.

Filled with elation at a rare personal victory Nene looked back to the darting movement and flashes that framed the other fight. She was shocked to see Sylia was losing. It didn't seem possible that the white Knight Saber could do anything but win. Sylia was the most incredible, talented, and driven woman Nene had ever met. Seeing her struggle just to survive seemed wrong.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Nene hunkered down trying not to attract any attention. She wouldn't last a minute if he had Sylia on the run. Instead she set to work with her own specialty, hacking Mason's power suit. It was only a moment before she broke its firewall and realized how he was doing so well.

It wasn't skill or power, but an advanced analytic program forecasting Sylia's movements. Not quite well enough to give him victory but more than enough to keep her on the run.

With that revelation Nene felt her lips turning up in a predatory smile, incipient vengeance blooming as she recognized his vulnerability. Mason's systems were too complex. Only the smallest nudge would overload the system.

Proving why she was their leader Sylia reacted to the change in circumstance even before Nene could tell her what she had done. Without pause, Sylia recognized the fundamental change in Mason's ability as his fire ceased tracking her. In a flash she somersaulting over him and slid an energized blade through his back. As she stepped away the last two feet glistened red with blood. Mason's suit collapsed as if its strings were cut.

Nene felt a grim satisfaction mixed with horror at the sight. They'd done it, Mason was dead. She had to swallow back bile as it rose in her throat. Her eyes were inexorably drawn to the blood staining Sylia's weapon. Oh God, we really did it, He's really dead.

It was a relief that the need to help cover their escape with jamming and the intricate dance of ECM and ECCM took all her attention.

Later as Nene literally showered blood from her hands, the guilt and sickness over her part in Mason's death resurged then slowly washed away. It swirled down the drain with the blood of a friend, of a boomer. It all really began to sink in. Kari isn't human, wasn't human, and never had been, and while she might be coming back Mason never would.

The water heater in Sylia's building didn't let her down. The heat continuing long past the point at which she was physically clean. The shower washed away the last remaining chill, and it was a pink and wrinkly Nene who finally emerged from the changing room. Her guilt over Mason finally excised.

Slipping into a guest room, she tried to sleep but her mind continued to pick at thoughts of Kari. Nene liked her, it, her. She liked Kari, and boomer or not she was a friend. Looking back Nene realized there had been clues, but nothing so glaring it couldn't be easily dismissed. Kari was just so lifelike, so genuine, not just physically but socially that Nene never even noticed when talking with her.

Rolling over she tried to think objectively. Kari was just so human, more than any other boomer she had ever heard of much less met. If a machine could really be that sympathetic, compassionate, were they really just a machine? Wondering how much more human a boomer could really be, Nene lay uneasy, her thoughts troubled for another restless hour.

Finally giving in and unable to sleep she took the elevator down to the mainframe and logged in. Ever since she discovered computers this was where she went to find her answers. A place where anything was possible and you could learn whatever you needed to know. And now she wouldn't be able to rest until she knew the truth.

She started by pulling up the records from her hardsuit. Studying the deep scan that had shaken her world more closely; it was obvious now that she knew what to look for, the microscopic weave of wires through the body, connecting tissue and synthetic organs with a series of microprocessors and the synthetic brain that made her boomer. That Genom copy written brain was indisputable proof that her friend wasn't a highly augmented human, but a highly humanized boomer.

That only pushed her to search further. Getting into the ADP databases through a backdoor she placed months ago, she tried to learn if any boomer like Kari had been seen before and to her surprise found a perfect match.

**33-S model humaniform domestic boomer. **

**This model has been banned due to extremely high failure rates and instability in its AI matrix. 33-S class boomers often go rogue and kill their owners before being put down. These Boomers are capable of masquerading as human and require specialized systems to detect. Aditionally they have been used for assassination but the primary second party crime seen is use in illegal prostitution dens. The last unit was produced March 14 2027, blanket authorization to terminate on discovery granted in Japan as of November 1 2027, most recent case file April 3 2028. **

No wonder she didn't recognize it, there hadn't been a sighting of one for more than a year before she joined up and before then her interests hadn't included boomers at all.

Continuing to sift through the ADP data, she tried to understand how one could have survived so long unnoticed. Most boomers required monthly maintenance at least or risked mechanical failure. While it's true that the 33-S was largely organic, surely it couldn't have been hiding all this time without some maintenance problem surfacing. That was when she came across a disturbing technical footnote.

**The 33-S was designed to be fully capable of maintenance free operation. The only consumables required being an appropriately tailored diet, access to the power grid and consistent supply of circulatory fluid to power its systems and carry the nanites required for self-repair. Note, although the 33-S circulatory system was designed to use a synthetic compound on the restricted materials list, human blood can be used as a short term substitute without compromising operation but requires frequent replenishment due to deterioration. Results of long term use are unknown. **

Was that it? Had she somehow escaped and been living the last five years off human blood? A shiver went down Nene's spine, wait, Kari was being held by Genom… if that were true then what experiments had they been doing with a five year old boomer. Tears came to her eyes, she couldn't help it. The thought of her friend being a prisoner, a slave, for five years before they met and she escaped… Her eyes fell on a statistic showing that within six months 90% of 33-S boomers went rogue, 80% violently. No, she shook her head. She wouldn't believe that of her.

Kari was a friend, and had twice risked herself to protect Irene. Nene was sure she would have done the same for her. Kari wasn't like what these files described. Maybe she was a new model, an improvement. Ending her speculation, research having done nothing but raise troubling questions Nene shut down the system and stumbled back to the guest room and tried to finally get to sleep.

The young redhead woke to the bright glow of sunlight on curtains. Wanting to find out what had happened, to learn if Kari would be alright made her rush. She found herself hurrying to dress in her rumpled day old clothing. Forgoing her usual hairstyle she pulled it back into a simple ponytail rather than take the time to brush it out properly.

She suffered a moment of panic when she arrived to see Irene's bed was empty. Rushing to the workshop to check on Kari, she almost bowled Sylia over dashing through the door.

As usual the young business woman looked impeccable despite having still been even when Nene went to bed. Somehow the creases of her suit remained sharp, hair perfectly coifed. In fact she looked ready for a photo shoot, and as usual began to answer Nene's question before nervous woman could open her mouth to speak.

"Irene is fine. She was moved earlier this morning and is on her way to China. It is better this way Nene." She reached over and touched the shorter woman's shoulder looking deep into her eyes offering a rare show of support. "She will be safe under the aegis of her grandfather, and we could not keep her here without revealing our identities."

Nene slumped a little but nodded, Sylia was right, as usual. Drawing breath the redhead opened her mouth to ask about Kari. Nene could see the boomer laying still and quiet on a work table to one side. The soft hum of support machinery indicating she survived but her skin was so wan, tinged blue by the florescent lighting she couldn't help but worry.

Again her leader preempted Nene's question, but now her tone was cool, the flicker of compassion gone. Again she was the Ice Queen the Knight Sabers had all grown familiar with. "4m83r is still recoverable. I know you thought of it as a friend Nene, but it is not. It is a 33-S, a sexaroid, and they are designed to mimic humanity, to learn what people around them want and then give it to them."

And she went on, rolling over any attempted objection by simply continuing to speak. Nene could hear the grim warning in her tone. "I know you do not want to think it of… Kari… but it has been manipulating you for weeks and it is most likely that she was planted on you as a spy." Raising a hand to quell Nene's rising fury, she continued.

"I am not saying that it was a conscious decision, or that it was intentionally targeting the Knight Sabers, it may just have been a sleeper agent until the fight on the bridge… but Nene, Priss brought back one of the handguns used. There is no way an innocent being could have gotten their hands on that gun. I have already traced it to a Genom black operations account. One of many Genom uses when it wants the versatility to either declaim all knowledge or provide proof of legal ownership and licensing as the occasion requires."

She let that sink in for a moment longer and the shorter woman felt her stomach churn glancing over at Kari. She looked so small, so weak and helpless. Nene shook her head it couldn't be that way, it just couldn't. "There has to be another explanation. She probably got it when she escaped from wherever they were keeping her. She was their prisoner, not some kind of spy."

"I know you want to think that way, but Nene, I have had my concerns since you told me how you originally met. You have to face reality, that it may have been intentionally placed to find someone exactly like you. A honey trap meant to worm into the life of any hacker skilled enough to attract attention. I fear that the best scenario is that it is simply a recruiter, but we cannot take that chance."

The younger woman set her feet and met Sylia's gaze as defiantly as she could. Nene could feel herself shaking, but whether in anger, frustration, or guilt she didn't know. Taking a deep breath to help gain control and muster her courage Nene did her best to answer. "That doesn't make sense. Why wouldn't she have done something by now, said something, or blackmail me into working for Genom once she learned I was with the ADP? Wouldn't that have been valuable enough to break cover?"

The compassion she saw in Sylia's normally cold eyes shook her more than anything she could have said. "Nene, your position is probably why it was going slow. Acquiring an asset like you within the AD Police would be a coup for Genom. You would be a prize and I want you to keep that in mind for what comes next."

"It is in stable condition now. The emergency shutdown procedure appears to have functioned correctly to save memory files, and your efforts combined with my work have allowed us to preserve its organic components. The actual damage sustained was relatively light. I am keeping it in hibernation for the moment. The nanites and self-repair systems are functioning but higher brain functions are offline and will stay that way until I am certain it is safe." She gave the young girl a look that brooked no disobedience on that point.

"I want you to go in and find out just what mission this 33-S is on after work today. Also I will need you to key me in as its master and remove any software Trojan horses that might exist. I know you want to think of it as your friend, but even if it is not working for Genom the Knight Sabers cannot risk our safety by letting it go. Do you understand?"

Her intensity was a bit frightening but Nene nodded, feeling awful about violating her friends mind and privacy but she couldn't find a flaw in Sylia's arguments. "I, I understand Sylia. I don't think you're right but, I'll do it." And as Nene's shoulders slumped the tension in Sylia's stance melted away, she could stop being the leader if only for a moment.

"I know it may not be fair if it really is a runaway but this is the best solution, the only solution, to keep all of us safe, Kari included. It is better than the alternative." And with that statement, one just vague enough to veil the threat of shutting down, killing Kari, she strode past Nene to the elevator leaving her alone with her friend and the soft beep and whir of the machines around her.

Turning her attention back to the somnolent form lying on the work table, Nene brushed a lock of white blond hair from her face. Her eyes nervously traced down a delicate jaw to get a better look at the large bandage at her neck. She didn't have the least temptation to peel it back, the gaping wound still disturbingly clear in her mind. The contrast between her own pale but healthy skin and the sallow color of her friends caused a shiver to run down her spine.

Getting a washcloth and bowl Nene sat down to do a better job of cleaning Kari's face. No matter what Sylia said she couldn't, wouldn't see her as the enemy. Kari needed her help, and even if Sylia refused to see that Nene knew it in her soul. "Don't worry Kari, I'm here, I'll look out for you, I promise."

Unfortunately once she finished cleaning her up there was little more Nene could do for her. A beep from her watch reminding her she would be late to work if she didn't go. Leaning down she placed a butterfly light kiss on Kari's forehead. "It will all be okay, truthfully." Swallowing back a nervous guilty feeling of having gone too far, Nene slumped off to work her mind in turmoil.

That evening when Nene returned the rat's nest of wires from support machinery was gone replaced with a clean white sheet and a single pair of cables. One to 'life support' but the other stretched to a computer physically isolated from the rest of the building, perfect for analyzing potentially infected data. Nene almost jumped out of her skin when she heard Kari take a soft but rasping breath the sound loud against the quiet hum in the background.

Her hands were still trembling as she sat down to start. Looking over to Sylia, Nene gave her a weak smile before diving in. Somehow the older woman's stately presence calmed her despite her orders having kept her mind in a state of turmoil all day. Working her way carefully into Kari's systems Nene tried to tell herself it would be just like meeting her friend out on the web. It didn't work.

It was however a bit strange. She had studied the system architecture for the 33-S model while at work. How Sylia had gotten her hands on that she had no clue, but as she infiltrated deeper she found more questions than answers. Kari's programming just wasn't organized correctly. All of the hardware drivers seemed the same but the way information and memory were stored was nearly incomprehensible.

At first she was afraid she had been too late and Kari had been… scrambled, but the longer she looked the more it was that every program file outside of personality and memory were fully intact. It seemed as if the main OS hadn't been fully installed. It was overridden in places, missing in others. She quickly realized that trying to isolate any memories or directives just wasn't going to be possible. Regretfully unable to prove Kari's innocence she turned to Sylia's second directive.

Working to find and isolate the code needed to… enslave Kari… she realized it just wasn't there. The elaborate programs meant to shackle and control a boomer's conscious mind were missing. Only a few governing instinctive behaviors remained. Such as an urge to obey lawful authority, but those weren't the kind of overrides Sylia wanted. Even firmware systems showed signs of tampering, hardware overrides in place but without software to back them up. Kari was as independent a boomer as Nene could imagine and she felt her spirits starting to rise.

Eventually though she reached the ultimate layer. Hidden away in her bios chip were the standard boomer ownership protocols. They were intact, and Nene felt her heart sink. Kari really was just a boomer, a slave to whoever was registered on that chip. Kari would have to obey them and no matter how much Nene wanted to believe otherwise, that her friend was free if whoever was listed here gave her an order she would have no choice but to obey.

Heart close to breaking, almost unwilling to look Nene queried the chip. Already feeling defiled by the faceless man who's name would be revealed. So what she got back made no sense. It couldn't be possible. She checked again getting the same result and that it had been altered, and recently.

Ignoring Sylia when she looked up at the girls gasp Nene concentrated with an intensity only found when presented with an enigma. She was absorbed in her work recovering a complete record of every change in state those few simple bytes of memory had ever held. Sitting back she finished looking up to realize Sylia had been studying her for some time.

"Nene, what is the matter?" Sylia's voice finally broke the silence once more and Nene realized it wasn't the first time she'd asked. Recognizing finally had her befuddled hacker's attention Sylia tried again "What did you find?"

"It's me."

Sylia blinked but the intrigued expression didn't leave her face as she simply waited for Nene to explain.

"Her master, it's me… I don't know how but, it changed the night of the first attack on Irene." The disquieted redhead looked back over at Kari where she lay silently on the table. Licking her lips nervously she went on. "We were with her the whole night, no one had access, it shouldn't be possible but…" taking a deep breath she tried to settle her racing thoughts and start over from the beginning.

With a visible effort to take a metal step back the confused officer collected her thoughts before beginning to speak. "Okay, from the beginning…maybe it will make more sense that way." Nene murmured before speaking up.

"Kari was activated for the first time several months ago without anyone being imprinted as the owner. I don't know how, or why, it's against all standard operating procedure, but it's true. That was left, blank and all the obedience hardware dormant… and it stayed that way for the week she was active. After that she was shut down. I don't know why but her maintenance log shows she was put into storage for months before being activated again.

This time with her owner was registered as 'Master Flint'. But Sylia, that's all that was entered. Not his first name, image, biometric data, anything just 'Master Flint'." Seeing the recognition in Sylia's face, Nene paused her recitation and waited for Sylia to say something.

Realizing she wasn't going to Nene pressed on with the briefing. "It's refering to Marcus Flint, head of GPCC, Genom's space research division. I'm not sure how he got his hands on her but I knew that's who had her before she got away for good."

"But Sylia after that is the weird part. Somehow I think, I think she's updating it herself. It really shouldn't be possible. Since the night of the first attack the missing data, biometric information, images were all filled in and, its, me; my image, my voiceprint, everything. It's as though a technician performed an official change of ownership, and then the next day the name updated too, now it's Ne-chan. She actually overwrote her own owners file!" Nene's voice was filled with a quiet awe at the impossibility of what she had found.

"What should I do?" She asked, lost, looking to Sylia for direction. The sudden feel of responsibility towards Kari strangely stifling at the same time it made her heart begin to swell.

The only indication Sylia gave of the thoughts running through her head was to tap her chin with one long elegant finger as she pondered. Finally she nodded more to herself than her companion. "That does not change anything. Without access to her memories we will have to ask her directly. Keep her under until her body has had time to heal, then we will see what she has to say for herself. Apparently she has changed masters once Nene, there is nothing that says she will not do it again. We have to be sure she is trustworthy before we even consider letting her go. Can you get the rest of her obedience software running?"

The question made Nene squirm a little in her seat. "Maybe, but Sylia, that isn't right… I mean, she's," there was a pause as she tried to marshal her argument. "She shouldn't be made a slave just because she tried to help out. She could have died for Irene and you want me to reward her by, by putting her mind in chains? She might be a boomer but she's also my friend."

Even watching Sylia closely the only reaction Nene could see to her impassioned plea was a slight widening of her iris' before the tall woman gave a sharp nod, silvery shoulder length hair bobbing with the motion. "Very well Nene, we will see what she has to say for herself first, but I want you to put in an override to turn them all on remotely just to be safe."

Shoulders slumped, a little of the glint lost from her eye Nene set out to do what Sylia demanded as the price for bringing back her friend. She only hoped that somehow Kari could forgive her, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach promising that her tampering wouldn't go un-noticed.

Updated 5/6/13


	9. Arc 3 Chapter 1

Frozen Butterfly Arc 3 Chapter 1.1 a story of Bubblegum Crisis

The world was comforting and warm, filled with a gentle thrum, light bathing my eyes in a golden glow. It tickled on my skin, like a feather being drawn across it. When with a snap like a dam breaking, knowledge built up for days came pouring through.

_Fluidics systems 99.8%, Ocular systems 81.2%, Damage to abdominal cavity and associated musculature 3.2%, Damage to Epidermis 1.3%, time to repair 23:22:00 at current rate._ Of course it couldn't be right. I was badly damaged and my blood supply had been deteriorating for weeks before…

The Fight!

Jerking up as my eyes flashed open I was halted abruptly, straps holding me in place. Eyes open wide; I tugged my arms and kicked my feet finding both equally restrained. Turning from the blurry concrete overhead I caught an impression of red hair, Nene? Struggles ceasing my mouth hanging open for a moment.

Beside her was another woman, she seemed strangely familiar, with short black hair and light skin. She was wearing a dark violet business suit and some kind of cream colored blouse. Swallowing past a lump in my throat, I turned my gaze back to Nene, remembering the last few moments before… now.

"Ne-Chan, what's going on?" I couldn't help it; my voice was weak, begging her to answer. I didn't add it, but unspoken another question burned inside my mind. "Why am I still alive?"

My heart pounded as she stepped closer, the care in her bearing, the way she leaned in, one hand rising subconsciously to reveal her thoughts. S_ubject exhibiting relief and concern 95% probable._ But, wasn't she a Knight Saber? They killed boomers like me, and she had to know what I was now.

Nene shuffled her feet under my gaze, mouth opening as if trying to figure out how to start. But before she could the other woman cleared her throat, instantly drawing my attention.

"Ms. Ceallaigh, rather 4m83r, as I am sure you have realized by now you would not have survived without our assistance." She paused for just a moment to let that sink in. "I presume that you are also clever enough to come to the correct conclusion as to who we are." _Subject is member of the Knight Sabers, probability approaching parity._

"Despite your previous association with Officer Romanova it is not safe for you to wander about freely, neither for you or for us. For the time being therefore you are and will remain our prisoner. That much is non-negotiable. However, within the confines of that there is room for discussion." Her tone was calm, stating facts, and sent a chill down my spine. Somehow I knew this was a woman to be wary of.

"For the time being you are required to wear a security bracelet. It regulates your systems, prevents you from accessing any wireless network and of course serves as a monitor recording your movement and activities." At her words I looked down with a hint of fear feeling something cool on my left wrist. There hooked into a now fully repaired maintenance port shone a simple metallic bracelet. Worse, now that my attention had been drawn to it I could feel the connection in the back of my mind, a low whistling sensation as if from a breeze; blowing through me and taking with it the heat of life.

Heedless of my sudden discomfort she went on. "If you answer our questions honestly and cooperate fully, you will be allowed some privileges."

I could almost physically feel an urge to respond, the promise of freedom dangling just within reach. Without pausing to think it over I found myself nodding. "Of course, anything, please, I'm not a danger, really." My voice straining to project sincerity well enough that she would believe me. As although she didn't say it; she didn't have to. My options were cooperation and confinement, or death.

Disconcertingly without my glasses I couldn't read her well enough to read a response to my plea. Her face nothing but a blur revealed none of the subtle clues I had grown so accustomed to seeing.

"Good, now then, we will start with Genom. What is your current relationship with them?"

Personally I thought it was a rather stupid question, she was being either intentionally dense or fishing given the vagueness of her question. "I don't have one, if they knew I was still alive they would probably try to kill me." Given that I would give a similar answer no matter what the truth I could only hope she was fishing and accepted the bait I left dangling.

"What leads you to believe that they do not think you are alive?" her question following swiftly on the heels of my response.

I actually paused to think about that, wondering why she was more interested in that, then why they would want me dead. I was surprised; it was a pertinent question, particularly if she somehow knew I had gotten caught up in things by mistake. Catching a slight shift, a hint of impatience slipping into her stance I stopped trying to second guess her motives to answer, as truthfully as I could.

"Well, as far as they know I was properly disposed of. Mast…" stopping as I realized the wrongness of that thought, I corrected myself and continued, "Mister Flint was careful when he acquired me to make sure that there would be no trail leading to him. From what I could discover my re-activation," a phrase that sent little shivers down my spine, "wasn't approved by anyone else in the company. For that to change Flint would have to admit what he had done and that I escaped. I don't think he will do that." _Analysis of subject Flint shows supposition 93% probable._

Staring up at that still judging form somehow recognizing despite the lack of detail my instincts required that she wasn't satisfied I realized just how much I had left out. "Let me explain… it's a long story. I-" worrying my lip between my teeth I paused. It felt wrong to keep secrets from her; but maybe I could give an edited account, one she could believe instead of the farfetched truth.

"I'm an experiment. I was first activated in 2032 by Brian J. Mason. It had something to do with transferring memories but I wasn't ever told the specifics." Only the complete control I extended over my physical reactions let me appear calm beneath her imposing gaze, even blurred her narrowed eyes seeming to look right through me.

"Ah, that's when I first met Nene. I… didn't like it there and wanted to be free." Like that wasn't obvious… "And she helped me to escape the facility I was being held at. Unfortunately there was some kind of tracker I didn't know about and… well, Genom caught me in less than a day and I… was shut down."

Physical control or not I felt a quiver as I remembered my encounter with Mason, the helplessness and certainty that it was the end. "Actually, I'm kind of getting used to 'waking up' like this now." I tried to joke a little tugging at my wrists to indicate the restraints, but unfortunately she didn't take the hint and offer to let me up, though it did have Nene squirming uncomfortably behind her.

"Soo," I went on with a little sigh, "the next thing I knew I was waking up in Mister Flint's penthouse. He's some bigwig in Genom R&D. Not an egghead but a suit. Anyway it was pretty obvious he wasn't supposed to have me. The reactivation sequence was done incompetently. It's his fault I need glasses."

When even that didn't draw a reaction I tried to hurry things up, now just wanting to get to the next question, anything to try and relieve the nerves now plaguing me. "So, um, anyway he had taken care of all the records Genom had on me, not wanting them to find out he wanted his own private slave. Then I escaped; so in Genom only he knows I exist and hopefully won't ever speak up to cover his own ass. "

There was a nod, and I got the impression, _58% probable low certainty due to limitations on subject input clarity_, that she had expected my answer or somehow knew my story without even asking. I looked over to Nene, and from her slight shrug and unfocused smile realized they had already put it together. Those actually made me feel better. It meant that telling the truth, being forthcoming like I was might buy me some good will.

"Um, is there anything you don't already know that I can answer for you?" I asked, my tone a little wry, and somewhat annoyed, as I didn't bother to hide my feelings.

"Yes, why Nene?" The question was short, simple, but I something in her tone implied the answer was more important than the question warranted.

"Uh, she's a friend. She helped me out when she didn't have to…" Clearly I wasn't giving her what she wanted. Even with my visual impairment the certainty was rising by the moment. "Why not Nene, I don't understand." It was my turn for confusion as she just nodded, more to herself than me.

"I am going to release you now, but you are not to leave this room. The door to the rest of the basement is sealed. The elevator will not function if you are present or if the bracelet is removed or disabled. We will monitor you around the clock." Her hands worked at the bindings as she explained the limits to my new world.

Finally removing the last strap, she handed me my glasses. Focusing on her face I got a good look for the first time. Her eyes were piercingly intelligent, brown but far from ordinary. I had to look away first. "Thank you." Hands fumbling with the hem of the hospital gown someone had put me in I changed the subject.

"Do you have anything else I could wear… or can I take a shower? How normal is my life going to be?"

"Nene can help with that, she visited your apartment to gather your personal effects. Good day Amber." And with that she turned on an expensive heel and was gone, the door locking shut in her wake leaving Nene and I sitting alone together, staring, the silence growing awkward between us.

Unable to let it continue any further I finally looked up, brushing back my bangs and asked point blank. "So, you're a Knight Saber huh… how, or well, I guess, why am I still alive? I thought that, you guys just killed boomers…" I left off, 'like me' but it wasn't really needed. She obviously knew what I was asking.

It was a relief to see her fidget beneath my gaze. Nene looked just as nervous and distressed over the situation as I felt. "We don't just go around hunting boomers. Really we're more of uh, mercenaries?"

It was cute watching her say that, trying to make it sound like a good thing. Add in how she began to blush when I lifted a single eyebrow questioningly at the statement making her realize that from my perspective that wasn't much better.

Growing a bit incensed she glared back at me. "Don't look at me like that, we only take good jobs. Or, well, uh, we don't do bad one's…" another raised eyebrow and I had her almost fuming. "Hey, it costs a lot of money to build and maintain power armor. Sure sometimes we have to do some shady things. But even though we stop rogue boomers as a public service, but we're not like, a boomer hate group or something. "

That nervous flutter in my stomach was gone. Yes she was a Knight Saber but still, this was Nene, my Ne-chan and it was hard to remain afraid when she was standing there nearly steaming and trying to defend herself to me.

Reaching out I put a hand on her shoulder feeling her warmth beneath my fingers. "It's okay, I believe you I do. I even understand why you can't let me go, but this is better than being dead. Thank you."

I took a nice steadying breath just in case the next thing I had to know resulted in bad news. "Nene, what happened to Irene?"

The slight hesitation before her answer didn't match with her expression. _Indication subject focused on ancillary concerns 83% probable._ "Irene is fine… mostly." She let out a sigh. "She was injured, but given who she's related to there shouldn't even be scars once she's recovered." Drooping even more she continued on. "But she's left Japan, and probably won't ever return, ever."

"What, who's her family, and where did she go?" I can't explain it, but just hearing that she was gone hurt more than my lingering injuries from the fight. A few simple words having stolen away part of the foundation of my new life.

"To China, I can't say more, really, but she'll be safe there, Genom won't threaten her again." Her dreary countenance turning what should have been an expression of triumph into a depressed confession. "We were supposed to protect her, protect you both really but, I'm sorry we just weren't fast enough."

Looking like she wanted to say more but wasn't quite sure how Nene fell quiet. To my dismay I realized that Irene wasn't the only thing I had lost in that night. The intimacy of our relationship was gone another casualty, and as I sat watching Nene get up and slip quietly out the door I just hoped somehow it could be salvaged.

* * *

The first few days of confinement were spent in heartbreak isolation. It was worse than waking up to the tender attentions of Dr. Sutekina, because then at least I had things to do, people around to prevent a slide into depression. Most of my time was spent alone, locked in a small storage room with nothing to do beside endlessly wonder how I could have avoided an ending like this.

I was only rarely let into the common rooms of their base, to go to the bathroom or shower before being locked away again. When I was let out one of them was always on guard but the few times I tried to start a conversation with Priss ended in miserable failure and an even more upset singer.

The look of betrayed confusion in Linna's eyes the first time it was her turn to watch me was enough to quell the desire to even try to explain myself. It was harder to be beneath the gaze of a friend than that of a virtual stranger.

The only bright spot in those early days came with Sylia. When she appeared at the door letting me out I could almost feel the world becoming a better place. She always had something to say, and even though she never used my true name around her the tedium was vanquished until once more I heard the deadbolt click into place. The lingering scent of life outside lasting long after the door had closed.

* * *

I found solace in spying. While Sylia's bracelet somehow managed to disable my ability to speed up or slow down my own processing speed, it didn't seem to affect my senses. Still able to distinguish sounds as low as 20dB eavesdropping was very possible.

"Nene, I know you care about her, but you need to be careful. It does not seem like it but she is a newborn, and still in the danger period."

"She's not like that Sylia. She's stable, and even if she weren't she wouldn't hurt us. I trust her."

"Perhaps, but that very attitude is why you cannot be trusted with her by yourself. You know the numbers as well as I do. Ninety percent Nene, that is how many go rogue; violently. And while it may be argued that Kari has already gone rogue or is past the danger point I'm not willing to gamble with your life."

"It's not a gamble Sylia, you saw what she did. She risked herself twice for Irene. She wouldn't hurt me, heck she was frightened of me when we first met and she realized I was with the AD Police."

"This is why I have not allowed you to be alone with her. If something went wrong you would not respond in time. This is an end to the discussion. If you want to see her I will allow it, but not alone; she is not safe."

* * *

After I overheard that Nene came to visit me for the first time since I woke up. To my frustration her visit was strained. The comforting connection between us missing and it was awkward trying to find something to talk about. The things I wanted to say I didn't feel comfortable admitting to in front of the cool eyes of Sylia across the room. On her part Nene was just too _guilty and confused _to feel comfortable_._

Fortunately for my sanity Nene's stubborn and didn't give up. It took a few visits but finally inspiration struck and I begged her for a piece of cheesecake. To my relief the walls seemed to tumble down. That mundane desire, a need I could express and she could share helped us rediscover common ground to explore.

* * *

Linna was doing her best to pretend I didn't exist, _probability 69%_. She didn't say a word for two full weeks though she served as guard for Nene several times. My chance to change that came when it was her turn to let me out for a shower and she caught me in the middle of my weekly required self-maintenance fitness plan, I finally saw a chance to connect.

"Why are you doing that?" She asked when the door opened to me being in the middle of a set of crunches. _Subject curiosity overcoming distrust 87% likely._

"I don't want to get fat." I grinned up at her. "You don't really think you can get a body like this for free do you?" _Indications subject has not given prospect thought 80%. _Overriding the requirement to finish I paused in my workout to face her directly.

"Linna, my body may have come off a production line somewhere but if you really think about it so did yours. I have to take just as much care of it as you. I have to exercise and watch what I eat carefully. The consequences for me are immediate, while you have some leeway. Everything I told you at the club is true, even if my manufacturer wasn't true-life I'm the same person now as then. I have to deal with the same problems every heavily cybered person does.

Going back to my work out I let her stew on that for a bit, letting her see me struggle and strain through the vigorous routine. Watching her from the corner of my eye I let her think on what I had said. Laying back and panting for air just like I did at the conclusion of her classes an idea came to me and looking up at her I could feel the sly grin come over my face. _Subject susceptible to planned proposal 75% likely._

"You know, exercising alone is pretty boring, and I just know Nene hasn't been back to the club since… especially without me to pester her, _96% likely, _ and while I understand I can't leave, that doesn't mean you couldn't hold classes here just for the two of us. Even if she tries to get out of it you let her know, she promised to come to classes with me. We never said where."

I don't know it was that I suddenly seemed more human in her eyes, or if she just couldn't keep me at arm's length any longer but plotting together against Nene did the trick.

In fact, learning of the idea Sylia decreed all the Knight Sabers show up as well turning my spur of the moment idea into a thrice weekly ordeal. One that quickly took Nene and I from fit, to downright athletic.

* * *

After one of our sessions I overheard them discussing me again, the sound of the shower not quite enough to drown out their voices.

"I don't trust it Linna, that, that THING was pretending to be a real person. It fooled me, it fooled Nene, it even tricked you. If it did that once how can we trust its promises to behave. It's a liar and it's not human."

"Priss, calm down. Kari-san isn't here to trick us. She's as much a victim as Genom is. Have you talked with her? She didn't want to hide things from us but how honest did she need to be? One word of the truth into the wrong ear and she would have been dead. Can't you see it from her perspective?"

"Yah right, that bloodsucker's probably just waiting for a chance to stab us in the back."

"I wish you wouldn't call her that, we both know it isn't Kari's fault she had to survive on human blood, and we both know she wasn't out…harvesting like some kind of vampire. From what Sylia says things were actually past the critical point for her already and she still hadn't done anything to hurt someone.

Linna's faith was reassuring. I was slowly but surely winning back my friends.

* * *

In spite of Priss's continuing distrust it didn't take long for my calculated efforts to pay off. Not only did the others begin to talk to me again, but started bringing books and tapes to help pass the time.

In little more than a month came a kind of daily liberty from the confines of the holding cell. I was free to join them in the common room, or use the facilities and kitchen unattended. The rest of the basement however remained off limits. Door's locked if I approached too close and I was under no delusions about what would be done if I actually did manage to get into the hardsuit lockers. Even so this little bit of freedom was enough to go to my head.

Maybe that's why I confronted Priss. Things were going so well with everyone else and I just wanted to win her acceptance.

She's a prickly one. I wasn't quite sure how to deal with her because she didn't stick around long enough to analyze her feelings. We hadn't gotten to know one another before the 'reveal', and she certainly didn't seem inclined to change that now.

The continuing silence and cold shoulder ate away at something inside. I could take hatred, or contempt, but the way she pretended I wasn't real wore at me. Finally I snapped and cornered her. Confronting her probably could have been handled better.

The Knight Sabers had gone out again. Boomer hunting or one of their mercenary jobs I wasn't sure and it didn't matter. The important thing was that this time I wasn't letting Priss slink away after they got back.

As usual she tried to ignore me, even quickened her pace when she saw me coming but in this instance security worked in my favor, elevator doors refusing to open with me in close proximity.

"What the hell is your problem?" She beat me to the punch, with my own question no less. Of course I wasn't feeling in any mood to be polite either, the weeks of being treated like a pariah wearing on me.

"What do you think? Did I choose to be here? That I like being treated like I've got a contagious disease? The Hell! The others at least accept that I exist. It isn't enough for you to keep me here, but can't you at least acknowledge I exist?"

I could see her face screwing up with anger, watch as she took a breath to refute my statement but this time I beat her to the punch. "What the hell is your problem? I know you kill boomers for a living but that can't be the whole story, I mean your band is named the Replicants for kami's sake."

Her face flashed from anger to surprise before a mask slipped into place. _Likelihood that origin of band name taken from movie Bladerunner 98%. _With a shove she stepped into my personal space towering over me. _Warning! subject unstable, likelihood of hostilities 87%. _"What do you care, it's not like your emotions are real anyway?"

Looking back there are a lot of things I could have said at that point, about why Priss might empathize with a runaway opposing a faceless megacorp, or some clever analogy between myself and Rebecca or Decker, how if I thought and felt like a human didn't that make me close enough to count. I didn't do any of those things though. Instead I took a swing at her.

Even as my fist flew forward I realized it was a mistake, but I couldn't help it I was just that mad. I think surprise is the only reason it landed. Priss's head snapped back, teeth closing with a sharp clack. I had all of two point three seconds to revel in my victory, David beating Goliath. That's when she got past the surprise; I saw her eyes narrow and body begin to move.

Now would have been a great time to enter accelerated time, but Sylia's bracelet disabled that ability and I hadn't found a way around the block. Instead Priss' lunge introduced her fist to my chin, and knee to my stomach.

From there it got worse. Priss may fight dirty but she's also good. I got two lucky hits in, but reviewing the fight after the fact I can't claim they were intentional. The beating she gave me once she got over her initial surprise however was both brutal and thankfully short.

As I lay on the ground, curled into a ball to cradle fresh injuries and dialing back the pain she stood over me panting from the sudden burst of adrenaline. Shaking out a bruised fist she asked belligerently "Had enough?"

"Have you?" I shot right back quickly. "Or do you need to beat me up some more to feel human?" My words intentionally cutting, and just the opposite of what my instincts screamed at me to say to defuse the situation, _probability course of action will defuse tensions 12%._

Her response was to draw back her foot but before she could land the next kick I bore on. "It's okay, I'm starting to get used to getting beat up by soulless killing machines," _6%_.

That she went through with the kick wasn't much of a surprise. "What the hell do you know about it?" She screamed as she dropped down straddling me, fists gathered the shirt at my neck and slammed me back against the concrete floor. "You can't understand. You're just a thing!"

I don't often give thanks for my loss of humanity but the ability to suppress the pain and think clearly then was invaluable. "I'm a person, just like you, like Nene, like whoever you lost. The only difference is I was born a slave. I wasn't given a choice about getting fucked over, I was made for it. Do I deserve to be killed for it Priss, or should I call you Decker instead?"

In the middle of my rant I felt her begin to tremble, frustration stealing her conviction. The profanity of my response driving the nail home, I watched as the rage turned to confusion and guilt. Letting go she tried to shake it off with a snarl. "That doesn't mean you're real, and just because you have a shitty life doesn't mean you're not just a marionette."

Rather than speak up I let her have the last word, not moving anything but my eyes as she backed into the elevator, my subconscious unable to provide a meaningful read on her emotional state. Instead I just watched her go, feeling the chill of the floor sink into my bones as the doors cut off that accusing stare.

* * *

Interacting with Sylia was different than dealing with the others. From the beginning I felt, no I knew she was key. Something in her very presence bespoke command. I found myself wanting to please her as much or more than those actually on her team did. It wasn't just to get out from under the microscope either.

It was hard dealing with her at times because she was difficult to anticipate. After my fight with Priss I expected the terms of my confinement to return to the beginning. To be punished for lashing out, or at least some kind of negative repercussions.

Instead the next time I saw her she brought in my dialysis machine and to my surprise several fresh pints of blood.

"Amber," she again referred to me by designation rather than name a habit I couldn't work up the nerve to confront her over. "By my calculations your internal systems will require a fresh supply of nutrients for repair and proper function." With a gesture she made it clear I was to sit so I did.

Without another word she quickly and efficiently set up the transfer, as though she had done this a thousand times, showing no discomfort at proof of my inhumanity. Her proximity was strangely disturbing as she took my wrist in hand to make the connections. Her skin was warmer than I expected _37.2 degrees_; she seemed so cold I somehow assumed it would translate to everything about her.

Instead I couldn't help but catch her scent, slightly sweet yet metallic, lingering as she stepped back and settled into the chair opposite me. Her eyes bored in, judging as though they could look right through me. Here it came, now she would decide my fate.

I shuddered a chill running through my veins. It took long moments to realize it was simply the rush of fresh blood and not her cool gaze causing the sensation. I wondered what she saw in me, at the shivering pleasure of fresh life literally bleeding into my veins.

Awkward the silence stretched between us before finally she broke it. "Why did you attack Priss?" I couldn't read her intention behind the query at all. The frostiness of her tone indicating to my mind just how stupid the decision to attack had been but she gave no sign of chastising me for it directly.

I wanted to give the question some thought, but beneath that penetrating gaze found myself blurting out the first thing that came to mind. "I was angry." The slight twitch of her eyebrows broke her façade, _indications subject intrigued by response 62%, _and prompted me to go on, and this time taking a moment's thought I did.

"She was ignoring me, pretending I don't exist. It pissed me off. Where does she get off judging me like that? No… deciding that I'm not even worthy of that much attention. She doesn't know my life, what I've been through, but she knows I'm a boomer and that's enough. Like that one little fact means she doesn't even have to take the time to think before stuffing me in a little mental box to be forgotten."

"I wanted to make her see me. Not what I am, but who." Running a hand through my hair in frustration the tubing at my wrist swaying wildly I leaned back with a sigh. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have," the need to apologize before that impassive gaze rearing up before I went on. "But I wasn't trying to escape or anything. Just, make her notice me…" Why did it feel like I was standing in the principal's office?

I couldn't come up with anything better, to explain the inexplicable need to be noticed, acknowledged but thankfully a slight nod relieved me of the need. "What do you think your punishment should be?"

I sat slack jawed for a moment. She was asking me?

"You did attack one of my Knight Sabers. Putting you down would be a perfectly reasonable response on our part." _Subject exhibiting control over pulse and respiration, suppressing voluntary body movement and maintaining constant eye contact, intentions inconclusive._

I had to fight to suppress the urge to blurt out the first thing to come to mind. Instead I took a deep breath, and holding it measured off exactly 10 long seconds, let it out and only then answered her question.

"Miss Stingray, if anything my… actions should prove that you and your organization are safe from me. I admit I was angry; and acted without thinking it through but the results are that even attacking with surprise I couldn't outfight Priss. You now have proof I'm at best a minor threat and your programing blocks are working." That last bit coming out a bit bitterly.

"Or," Her voice calm and measured, "You are a student of Machiavelli and this is just a small part of a deeper plan."

"Machiavelli?" I asked incredulous. "He wrote the Prince as a primer for people in positions of power, not prisoners like me. What on earth makes you think I could or would even dare that kind of manipulation with people who could kill me out of hand?"

Her response sent a shiver down my spine. "The facts that not only do you recognize the name, but are capable of relating it to your situation. That is not standard behavior, or information for a boomer to have; certainly not one less than three months old. Explain."

The hard look in her eyes seemed to pin me in place. I couldn't move. It almost felt like I couldn't breathe with her staring expectantly at me. A thousand possibilities flashed through my mind, lies, half-truths, a full confession. I desperately sought out something to say, something to justify myself.

What came out of my mouth next rattled me to the core. "They aren't my memories." I could feel the blood almost humming in my veins as my heart rate skyrocketed. "I was given them w-when I was activated," wide eyes studying every facet of Sylia's face for a reaction.

A brief flash of shock let me read her feelings before once more her control locked out my instinctive knowledge once more. _Subject surprised 68% likelihood, warning subject shifting toward feelings of anger 63% likely._

"T-they're real memories, Human ones," I swallowed unable to hide my nervousness as I went on rationalizing; it was too late to hold back now.

"They are my memories from before I died. They saved them somehow, transferred them and made me." The slightest narrowing of her remarkable eyes had me hurrying to say more before she could make up her mind to just shoot. "I'm not working for them, just an experiment. Mason really does think I'm dead. I was just a, a test run, proof of concept." I knew I was babbling but couldn't stop now that I had started.

It wasn't until I had blurted out the story behind my life, death, and resurrection beneath her piercing gaze that I slumped down, spent but feeling oddly light and content. Only one secret had been retained, my original sex. It wasn't me anymore, and I knew, instinctively, that it would cause more problems if it got out. I would need to leave the cocooning shell of gender behind if I wanted to be able to truly fly free.

"Good evening Ms. Ceallaigh." I caught her scent moments before a hand settled on my shoulder. She squeezed it gently before disappearing out the door. That single moment of reassurance, of support stayed with me for the rest of the day.

* * *

Since then I felt her thawing toward me. Even though my subconscious couldn't quantify it something subtle in our relationship had changed; something beyond her using my name instead of model number. Her behavior didn't shift in an obvious way, she didn't give me any greater freedom, or lighten the security further, but still I could tell something had changed.

* * *

As for Nene, she and I had mended our friendship. Though it was strained she was a good enough person that my betrayal wasn't enough to break the bonds we had forged. Although it did take rehashing many of the conversations we had once I admitted the truth behind my memories to her.

It was the day after Sylia had browbeaten the truth from me when Nene came in, tense, excited and looking like she wasn't sure if she should hit or hug me.

"What do you mean you're a real dead person?" Her tone made me cringe and look for somewhere to run. Of course there wasn't, so I had to turn back to face the music.

"Um, I don't…" but before I could say more than that she was continuing.

"I thought you were a real person when we met! How could you let me think that?"

"I was I mean, am a real person… and what was I supposed to say?" Wait, she's angry that I told the truth at first?

Talking over my response she ranted on, "Then you turn out to be a boomer, and what am I supposed to think?"

This time I knew enough to wait her out before trying to get a word in edgewise.

"And now, you let me think you were just, just some machine when you've been a real person all along! I should shoot you myself just so you stop changing on me!"

Waiting a moment longer to be sure she was done, for the moment at least, I drew breath. "Nene, I'm sorry. I just didn't know what to do. I don't even really know what I am anymore. I'm me, but still I'm also a boomer…" Standing up I stepped close and put a hand on her shoulder following subconscious prompts to help calm her down.

Meeting her eyes I spoke softly forcing her to quiet down and listen. "I'm just me. The same person you met on the internet, the same one who was scared out of her wits when she realized you were a part of the AD Police. I'm the same one who's gone with you clubbing and for coffee. I'm just, also a little bit more."

"Please, you're the only thing that is real in my life. Everything else happened to someone other than me. I may not seem it but in truth I'm only a few months old." I watched her closely; thumb slowly brushing against her clavicle measuring her pulse, respiration and dilation of her eyes.

Something in what I said caused her to stop and think. As though she had recognized something profound. Something that last admission blew right back out of her thoughts.

"Wait a minute… you said you were 19 years old. But, that movie, Wargames was from 1983. Just how old are you… er were you?"

Darn it, why did she have to ask such a messy question. "Ah, that's not really easy to answer. I could be 43, or 61, or 5, or 3 months old. It all depends on how you decide to count it." I think I broke her for a minute as she tried to work that out.

"So, you're really 43 years old then?" The expression of doubt and mild aversion on her face was priceless, and a memory I decided I would have to be sure to save forever.

"Don't be so jealous Ne-chan, I'm sure by the time your my age that science will have advanced to the point that you'll be able to match my figure too." The teasing tone and pin up pose I gave her was just enough to shake her from the building funk.

"Kari!" Delivering a well-deserved punch to my shoulder she broke out laughing. "I can't believe you!"

"I'm sorry, I was built this way!" My smile slipped just slightly as I made a decision. "I'm really not quite the same person I was before Nene. You shouldn't just assume that I just picked up where I um, left off," the euphemism for death coming more easily to me than saying the hard truth aloud.

"It isn't just the body, but, I have, it comes with…" I didn't expect this to be quite so hard. "You know what the 33-S model was made for right?"

She watched me curiously the humor slipping away as she recognized that I was trying to be serious. "Yes, for sex." The fact she got it out in one go despite the blush was somehow a triumph.

"Well, we're also um, equipped to facilitate that by being especially good at… manipulating and reading people." I tried to go on before she could draw her own conclusion from that.

"It's instinctive, I can't really help but notice, or act certain ways. It's…" searching for a way to say it she might understand I settled on programing language. "It's hard coded into me. But just because it's there doesn't mean that my feelings aren't. I _have_ let it color our relationship, but before you ever knew that, you knew me. The real 100% genuine article. It doesn't work online and, and any time you want to be sure I can't, cheat, we can talk that way. Please don't be mad." The last line added by that same subconscious urge that I was admitting to consciously. Something expressly designed to mitigate her anger by instilling a feeling of guilt for feeling any.

Sitting down on the sofa she took the time to really ponder what I had said. It was obvious now, why even at such a young age she was part of an elite mercenary unit. "You've been doing it to me all evening haven't you?" Those emerald green eyes bored into my own lighter ones seeking truth.

I hung my head a bit, all the proof of guilt she should need. Still I spoke up. "Yes, I'm sorry. I really can't help it. I just see how to act to calm you down, or defuse tension. A way to try and keep you as a friend and do whatever it is."

"If it makes it better I only do so because I care about you, about your friendship. I don't have to follow those feelings, if I did I never would have taken a swing at Priss, but I wanted you to know that they are there. I don't want to have any more secrets from you."

To my surprise she laughed. "Kari, it's okay. Seriously, you don't have to explain why Priss pisses you off. We all want to punch her some days. As long as you only let them lead you to do what you really want to do I won't get _too_ upset."

After that we sat up all night long, watching TV and talking. I insisted the first movie be Bladerunner. We shared a little laugh over Priss' choice in names before moving on to Wargames and other esoteric films from my youth.

As the evening grew long she almost drifted off several times. The lost closeness of our relationship restored I finally gave up and let her sleep, tucking my blanket around her and let her rest.

I think she may have gotten into trouble later, but the fact I was still there in the morning and she was alive went a long way to showing I was trustworthy.

* * *

"She attacked me Lina, she can't be trusted!" I could hear Priss's voice coming from the changing rooms again, and unsurprisingly I was still the subject of her ire.

"Priss, I saw the tape, everyone saw it. You can't claim to be entirely innocent here. Besides, you put her down in seconds. She can't be as big a threat as you're trying to claim."

"I still say she's up to no good, just waiting for a chance to betray us, you'll see."

"Then why didn't she do anything last night, Nene was asleep with her in the same room. If she really meant us harm she could have taken her hostage or even killed her."

"It's a trick, I'm telling you, this talk of real memories, it has to be…" but with that last line I could hear a waiver in Priss' tone. _Subject exhibiting self-doubt 76% probable._

* * *

After the fight with Priss I had realized just how vulnerable in a fight I really was. I needed to do something; anything to fix that but without a connection to the outside world I couldn't just download combat software and it was unlikely despite the thawing attitudes that I would be given permission to do so anytime in the future. Amusingly it was gaming that finally offered a solution.

Tekken has come a long way since the 90's. The battlefields are incredibly detailed and characters modeled true to life with bone, sinew, muscle and the best part, the motions and fighting styles are taken from real life martial artists.

It took a little conniving but after Nene had thrashed me for the umpteenth time I talked her into to cobbling together a direct interface to use in place of a controller. I think it was the technical challenge as much as my pleading that did it but that night when she went home I went to work.

From the multitude of styles only two were modeled on characters whose body types were similar enough to mine I could use them. Learning the moves perfectly was a matter of moments; implementation was the issue. The last thing I wanted to do was try to download the game's fighting AI and figure out how to run it in my head.

So, after a half hour of work I looked like a master in wushu and jujutsu. Learning how to actually fight would take time. Thankfully I had a perfectly good simulator right here and a selection of 32 opponents and five difficulty levels to teach me when to duck.

* * *

After the great revelation the days when Lina arrived for private aerobics became my favorites. There was something about getting them all in a room that put me at ease. It filled some subliminal need for socialization and with each repetition I realized how much I missed it when they were gone.

Sylia appeared to have no concerns over my behavior, but then she had never exhibited them before. The only true change was that she used my name instead of my designation. Her behavior was a complete opposite to Nene's. Our friendship was back and growing stronger with the younger? woman happy to talk about her day or whatever she had been doing lately.

As if in deliberate contrast Priss became even pricklier. She quit ignoring me, but instead actively went out of her way to try and antagonize me. Knowing that the most annoying response I could take was pretend not to notice and it almost became a game with her trying to taunt me into some kind of 'slip' while I became a model prisoner whenever she was around.

Only my relationship with Linna remained in an uncomfortable state of limbo. We were familiar with each other, but didn't know enough to get closer. She maintained some of Priss' distrust but trying to get over it she only found herself having trouble relating to the me behind the mask.

Meeting Mackey was a surprise. I knew he existed from snippets of conversation but catching a teen boy sneaking into your room at night to install a hidden camera doesn't convey the best first impression. Neither does his subtly trying to ask if, "You're sure there aren't any needs I could help fill for you?" Yes I'm a robot built for sex, and it's both flattering and oddly nice to be vindicated by a demonstrated desire to peep on me but seriously… get a life.

As the weeks passed even Priss began to forget why she was so upset. I changed from enemy to rival in her mind as we pushed each other as far as we dared.

To them all I changed from boomer to woman, from dangerous prisoner to unfortunate detainee. So why the confinement began to grate upon me more and more each day I couldn't say. Only that I could feel my mood settle into disturbing patterns of euphoria and depression.

Though my privileges were slowly increasing, more choice in clothing, movies, games, and books, Sylia was always careful to keep any contact with the world outside cut. I was always one step removed from real life. A fact I finally realized one day when Nene described how a co-worker and she were caught in a rainstorm at lunch.

I wasn't living anymore. I was just coasting from one meeting with the Knight Sabers to the next. My thoughts focused on that next social 'fix'. I could even feel the dependency growing, feel myself slipping further into the grasp of programing and instincts that weren't me.

My helplessness wore away at me, time alone seeming to be without end and that's when I overheard one more conversation.

* * *

"But Sylia, why not? You've seen it too. You know how miserable being confined for her is. She's spent day's moping in bed just waiting for someone to visit."

"Nene that behavior more than anything else is why we cannot let her go. I warned you before, no matter her apparent age she's just a few months old and the odds are against her. This instability, it may be the first indication she is going rogue."

"That's nonsense, she's trustworthy, and I know it. How much longer will she have to stay locked down here before you decide it's safe, that she's past the danger point?"

"I know it is hard, but we might not ever be able to let her go, how can we be sure she is safe?"

"What about the imprinting?"

"It has never proven itself reliable with her model. I do not believe it held. For the first month possibly two she would have done anything I asked, but I am not her master anymore Nene. Not reliably, and nowhere near firmly enough to let her go and trust her not to reveal things we cannot risk being known."

"It's just not fair Sylia, she's my friend."

"I know, but that does not change the situation. I am sorry."

* * *

I couldn't just accept that. No matter that things seemed to be getting better. They let me move about more, gave me things to do to keep myself occupied. But it wasn't enough to just live my life as a 10 to 2 friend, Monday Wednesday, Friday and alternating Saturdays.

What I had overheard was true. This life was eating me up. Something intrinsic to my being wanted to be free. Even Priss starting to use my name instead of "it" wasn't enough to change the fact that I couldn't stay here.

I wanted live again. To be me, without some strange programing enforced Stockholm syndrome. That life was one I didn't think I would ever have if I remained here, locked away and so I began planning and looking for a chance to escape.

* * *

My chance finally came. There was some kind of emergency, all of the Knight Sabers scrambling to respond. Something to do with Dr. Raven and a motorcycle gang but the details weren't important to me. Only that this once Nene was careless before rushing off to suit up was.

She remembered to take her laptop, but forgot to disable the network connection in the wall. A steady green LED winking at me showed it was still active.

And it if was still active then I finally had a way out.

The first step made me feel a little bit dirty, but hey, they didn't need the money in their purses and I definitely would. It was the second step that had me worried.

Hacking a security system designed by Nene didn't even cross my mind. I settled for a much simpler solution. I tripped the entire building's public fire alarm. It was a gamble, a big one but I was growing desperate, and even if it didn't work I no longer believed they would execute me for the attempt.

As the emergency lighting kicked in there was a light click and the powerful magnetic lock on the emergency stairs disengaged and pushing it wide I was free, sort of. If I took another step there was no going back.

I looked down at my wrist, of course it was a tracking device, but it was also plugged directly into my maintenance port. I could feel the soft pulses of data circulating as it reached deeply through my now fully operational maintenance port.

I still didn't know everything it was responsible for.

So I was understandably nervous as I tore it free and tossed it aside. A pulse from the bracelet rushed over suddenly active wireless receivers almost stunning me with its intensity. The feeling was strange after so long having gone without. I almost missed the whirr as the door began to shut, but a twisting jump and I was through. Sprinting up three flights of stairs I paused at the final door barring me from freedom.

Could I do it, was anything holding me back? Nene, Sylia, no. I pushed open the final door to leave them behind. This breach of their trust hurt but even just remembering the feel of sunlight on bare skin and anticipating it again washed away those feelings of guilt. "I was free at last."

To Be Continued

Version 1.1 completed 5/13/13


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